Settled World Verse
by Lorenz S
Summary: [Slash] AU The Settled World Verse takes place some time after "The Wall", however I started writing this before that episode aired. The point being Peter realized Gabriel had a bad past and that Sylar is a split personality. They're dating, all three of them, and they live together. (Warning: Mature Adult contents)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.

* * *

December 1st 2009

Ticking

-So in my little Petlar verse, so far unnamed, Gabriel and Sylar are seperate personalities and Peter can still use a lot of abilities at once. And with the split personality thing, at any time Sylar and Gabriel can be fighting to own the body and they sort of mush to create a little gray area...(Why yes I made a pun)

* * *

Peter POV

I take his ability when he's sleeping. I do it every night, then relinquish it every morning before I get ready for work. It's not long enough for the hunger to set in but he still worries. So I just don't tell him.

I love his ability. And it's not that I have this desire to learn things or know how things work, it's just that I like knowing how _he_ works. When I first take his ability, with a soft stroke on his inner wrist, my head fills with a heavy sounding tick. It's irregular. There's no set time between one tick and the next; sometimes it's seconds, other times it's minutes. But after the ability has settled a separate ticking starts. This one is softer and on a set predictable schedule. These ticks linger and fizzle out in a predictable but nice sounding way. Even though they're quieter they never quite manage to get lost behind the quicker, harsher ticks that came first.

It took me three nights to realise what the differences were. The first is obviously the tick that belongs to Sylar. The brash, broken, unpredictable personality is what draws the ability to the surface. And Gabriel is the soft, predictable tick. The ability says this man should tick soft always. It says that the irregular ticking is wrong, broken. Gabriel's own intuitive aptitude knows that he's broken.

But I've never done anything with the ability. Nothing active anyways. I just like the reassurance. Every night two sets of ticking weave through my head to make a beautiful lullaby.

Once I tried to close my eyes and imagine Emma's colors dancing with Gabriels ticking but it didn't seem right. It had been beautiful but it just didn't _feel_ right. Emma's dancing colors don't belong in my bed. They don't deserve to be so wrapped around Gabriel's ability. No one else deserves to be wrapped around this ticking. It's my little secret. It's something only I get to share with Gabriel.

It doesn't matter that everyone else knows about their differences, because we're the only ones who really _know_.


	2. Chapter 2

December 2nd, 2009

Beauty

Gabriel POV

Peter's beautiful. Peter is beautiful. He is beautiful. I am not as attractive. I'm sure of it. I have far too much body hair. There's hair all across my chest and in a line from my navel to groin. My pubic hair is simply unruly and under my arms...underneath my arms there are wild bushes that I've yet to figure out how to tame in a relativly unembarrassing way. My eyebrows are akin to caterpillars and my beard grows much faster than seems fair or likely. I even managed to grow hairs along the seem of my ass.

Blessedly my back is hair free, but I have yet to reach forty and that's usually when that type of thing sets in.

Peter is nothing like that. His chest and stomach are hairless. His face stays smooth for what seems like days after he shaves. His eyebrows are finely shaped littled arches and all of his pubic hair is fine and silky, thin.

He's only 5'7'', but he wears it like a graceful height, he puts those 6' models to shame. My own height of 6' just makes me feel too tall and too _there_. I feel as if my hands are too large for my arms and my feet too large for my legs. But with Peter it's different. His hands are dainty without being feminine. And his feet are just this side of small, enough to be cute and not so much that they look like a child's.

My nipples seem a bit too large in the means of areola and not large enough with the actual nipple. His are tiny and pert. They're beautiful just like the rest of him.

My eyes are brown like his, but not as perfect as his are. I have astigmatism, and so I am cursed to hide behind hideous glasses that make my eyes seem buggy. He'll most likely never need glasses, and I'm greatful. His face is far to pretty to sit behind bulky metal frames and glass lenses.

I'm not attractive. I'm always too much of something or not nearly enough. I've never been blessed with something genuinly inbetween. During high school, when mother still sat rigidly next to me in church I would never hesitate to ponder God's choices regaurding me when mother prompted me to.

We'd arrive half an hour early every Sunday and every Sunday she would nod to me and I would think. The topics varied, my apperance, my popularity or rather, my lack thereof, my absent father, the memories of a dark haired woman I couldn't place, and sometimes I even thought about the fleeting ticking I'd hear in my head. But even with my wide variety of things to think about I almost always returned to the same conclusion.

God was punishing me. Perhaps not for what I had done in the past, but for what I was going to do, for what I was going to _become_. I had to be born, perhaps to set something greater than myself into motion, or perhaps just to be made an example of. But I was sure, from the tender age of fiften I sat in pews of my church, alongside my mother, and thought to myself with great conviction that I was born to suffer. That I was being punished by God and that even suicide was not good enough for me, because I _needed_ to suffer, because God made me the way I was.

My belief in God thesedays, and subsequently my adherance to his commandments, is neither here nor there. Surely enough I did become a horrible man. I became a man who deserved the horrible things from my past. If anything that should have been enough to return me to the strictly devout Catholic I had been before, but my resolved wavered.

God had sent me Peter. And maybe He sent me a man because He wanted me to sin more. Because He doesn't want to risk absolute repentanence. He could have sent Peter to me in order to more blatantly point out our differences. Or maybe He sent me no one. Perhaps Peter found me all on his own.

Peter...

"Hey beautiful." I blush and pull away from his embrace.

"I'm not beautiful Peter, you are. You're perfect." His answering smile is crooked. The dead nerves in his lip make it hook down on one side. He brushes his fingers over it, over that beautiful smile.

"I'm not perfect, just look at my lip for one."

"But I love your lip that way."

"And I love you, the way that you are."

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	3. Chapter 3

December 3rd, 2009

Latex

Peter POV

I love my ass in latex. It's very...round and...pert. Yeah, Sylar says I have a pert little apple ass. Gabriel likes it too.

Hmm...stretchy latex, oh the possibilities. I could drive Gabriel up a wall. He'd get one good look at my backside and he'd be too embarrassed to even attempt looking at me from the front. Sylar would probably get fed up with the innocent act though.

But if I can manage to hold him off long enough maybe I'll get lucky and Sylar will ream my ass later. He might not even take the time to get my pants off all the way. I might like that...

I turn to my side and look closely at my profile.

He's definatly going to like me in these. Latex can do wonders for the ego. Well it can do wonderful things for my ego at any rate. I look so...big...and not 'I'm stuffing' big, more like 'do my eyes deceive me' big.

I may just work latex into my weekly rotation. Well not my weekly 'going out' rotation, but it may find its way into my 'special time' rotation. I love that rotation, even if more than half of it is me naked. Sylar certainly doesn't mind. Gabriel always looks like he minds. Not that he minds in a bad way, its just that he minds in a 'I'm still a virgin even though I'm not' kind of way. It's very cute. Cuter than my ass in this latex. And that is pretty damn cute.

I pull the front of my pants out as far as they'll reach and let it snap back into place. There's a loud snap and a sharp sting. I like that. Maybe I'll greet Gabriel that way. I can imagine it now.

_'Hi Gabriel.' Pull pants out and down. Wiggling hips, optional. I'll play that by ear. Release pants. Bite lip. Rub crotch. 'Like what you see?'_

Hm, maybe I'll leave out that last bit. Gabriel doesn't watch porn so he probably wouldn't get it. But maybe it's be better because he doesn't. No...if Gabriel doesn't get it I'm sure Sylar will. Ooh, but that would probably improve my chances at getting pounded into the mattress.

I've been hoping to break my bed. Just to say that I have. Not that I'll tell anyone. But _I'll_ know. And Gabriel will know, and Sylar...and Matt too probably. I'm sure that once I _do_ break my bed, and I will, I'll think about it all the time. And I'm fairly certain that I'll be seeing Matt in the future.

I hear the door open and I scramble to pull on my shiney black latex shirt. He opens the bedroom door just as I turn around.

"Hello Gabriel." Hip wiggle is a go.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	4. Chapter 4

December 4th

Love This

3rd person POV

**I fucking love this. This rush, it's freedom. There's no more obnoxious ticking, no more hunger, and until this is over there's no more Gabriel Gray whimpering in my subconscious.**

Peter and Sylar are tangled up underneath the cheap green sheets of a motel bed. Peter always protests at first, worried about what filth could be lingering on the mattress. But when Sylar slinks onto the bed, ass out and eyes downcast, he forgets his worries.

Peter rains frantic kisses across Sylar's chest, pausing only long enough to bite harshly on a nipple. Sylar keens and howls like a man possessed and Peter can't get enough of it. He grips tightly to the killers arms to keep him still while soothing the hurt with gentle licks and kisses. Harsh panting and needy whimpers fill Peters ears as his moves away from the nipples and down to the stomach.

Love this. I hate the wait, but I know the longer he's gone the better he reacts

Peter pushes Sylars hips into the mattress and thrusts his tongue in and out of the killers navel. Peter repositions himself carefully. He raises onto his knees, ass in the air and gives a little wiggle for Sylar's benefit before he bites harshly just above Sylar's straining erection.

"Petrelli! Fuck! Stop it or-"

Peter's nose nuzzles into the base of Sylar's erection and looks shyly under his lashes up at his lover. "Or you'll what lover?" Sylar growls but doesn't retaliate. Deciding not to push his luck further, the nurse pulls himself up, dragging his body across Sylar's in the process. He kisses the underside of Sylar's chin. His arms frame Sylar's head as he presses his lips lightly against the killers, pulling away when Sylar strains upwards.

"How do you want it?"

"On my stomach." The nurse makes an appreciative 'hm' noise and sits back, resting teasingly against Sylar's groin. He strokes Sylar's face while he pulls back and just misses a severe bite to his middle finger.

I wish he'd let me do it this way.

Peter raises up on his knees while Sylar turns over. The killer looks back at Peter defiantly but the effect is ruined by his harsh breathing. The nurse kisses Sylars tailbone softly and runs his hands up along the killers spine. He takes the hint and lowers his head back to the mattress.

"Be rough with me." Peter bites Sylar's butt in reply before gripping both of Sylars cheeks and pulling them apart. This is the part Sylar hates most. Peter refuses to go any further without some sort of preparation. When he feels the first kitten like lick at the seam of his ass Sylar's face flushes scarlet. He grips the underside of his pillow and pushes it into his face to hide his embarrasswment.

**Why does he have to do it that way? Damn it Petrelli, if that didnnnn-**

Bingo.

Sylar's rocking his hips gently back against Peter's tongue, asking it to finally breech his opening. Peter pulls back and bit to spit against the opening before sucking on one of his own fingers. His other hand scratches roughly across Sylar's stomach as a silent warning. The killer lets out a breathy moan and pushes his hips back against the nurse.

"Fuck me Petrelli!" Peter tsks but wastes no more time. He roughly pushes two fingers into Sylar. He leans forward and hooks his left arm around Sylar's hips, bringing his ass back to rest against his chest. He works his fingers in and out roughly, scratching harshly enough to tear Sylar's insides. Peter crooks his fingers and brushes against Sylar's prostate teasingly.

Sylar jerks frantically back against Peter's fingers. He can feel small trickles of blood flowing down the inside of his thighs. The pain of the constant tearing coupled with the cooling tingle of his cellular regeneration has him panting and chewing into his pillow.

Peter pulled back and pushed Sylars legs farther apart before getting on his knees behind him. "Ready lover?" Sylar growls at the nickname but pushes back against Peter anyways. The nurse lines himself up and pushes hard into Sylar's opening. The killer grunts and bites savagely into the fabric of his pillow. Peter sets a harsh, frantic pace.

"W-Wish you'd let...hm..let me do this...b...nicerrr." Peter's fingers dig into Sylar's hips leaving splotchy purple bruises. He breathes heavily in sync with his thrusts and bites down on his lip to keep from making too much noise. He wants to listen to Sylar. He wants to hear every whine, every grunt, and every breathy 'oh'.

But all Sylar can hear is the blood pounding in his ears and the sharp sounds of Peter's hips slapping into his. He's sure he's whining like a whore but he knows Peter won't tell anyone, wouldn't dream of telling. So he's perfectly fine with sounding like a whore as long as Peter keeps treating him like one.

"Harder!"

Peter huffs and tries to push harder.

"Not a...unf...not a machine..." Sylar pushes himself up on all fours and begins pushing back to meet Peter. His thighs are trembling and there's a thin stream of saliva dripping down to the pillow below him.

The sight of Sylar so debauched has him curling his toes and picking up the pace. He moves his hands from Sylars hips to grip at the killers ass instead. He pulls Sylar's ass apart and looks down to see thin trails of blood streaking in every direction and his own dick tearing ruthlessly into Sylar. It's just too much.

Peter throws his head back and howls Sylar's name while he comes. He stays still, every muscle taught, his hips pressed firmly to Sylar's. When his muscles finally relax Peter becomes away of Sylar's needy little whimpers and the involuntary jolts that jerk Sylar's hips about.

He pulls out of the killer and rolls him over.

"Petrelli..." Peter 'hms' and forces Sylar's thighs apart. He presses Sylar's prick into his stomach and holds it there, then bites down on Sylar's perinium. The killer screeches while he comes. His body convulses and his thighs clamp tightly around Peters head.

When Sylar finally relaxes Peter looks up to see Sylar streaked with his own come. Some of it had even landed on his chin. He laughs quietly while leaning back down to press a soft kiss on the bite he left.

"Don't know why you're laughing. _You_ have to lick it up."

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	5. Chapter 5

December 5th

Girls and Boys

3rd Person POV

Sylar/Gabriel conversation-Sylar in bold, Gabriel in italics

_Maisy._

**She was a slut.**

_We met her in Church camp._

**You also met Father Daniels in Church camp. He had no problem going rounds in the confessional booth.**

_I don't really remember that._

**I know, I made sure you wouldn't.**

A long pause.

_What about Susan? She was sweet._

**Only because she had to be.**

_What do you mean, 'had to'?_

**No one with a hairlip can afford to be mean.**

_Sylar!_

**What ever happened with Donna? Or was is Dana?**

_Daniella. And she...she stopped visiting the shop after I developed that stutter._

**Figures, I back off and let you live your life on your own and you go and develop a stutter.**

Gabriel huffs in the back of Sylars mind and closes himself off from the rest of the conversation.

"Damn it! Come back out here!"

"I wasn't hiding." Sylar jumps a little at Peter's response. He thought the nurse had still been sleeping.

"I was talking to Gabriel." Peter mouths 'Oh' and runs his hands from Sylars cheeks, into his hair, and them laces them together on the back of Sylar's head.

"About what?"

"Girls."

"Girls?" Sylar huffs and tries to pull away from his boyfriend.

**Gabriel! What am I suppose to say?!**

_Tell him the truth._

**He'll laugh!**

"I'll laugh at what?" Sylar slowly rolls his eyes up to look Peter in the face.

"You swore you wouldn't take Tubbys' power again."

"I would never! Swearing is for the bedroom and bleeding situations only...most of the time."

Sylar growls and pushes Peter away from him. The nurse stumbles back but doesn't back away when Sylar closes in on him, trying to look menacing.

"What were you two talking about?"

"None of your business Petrelli."

"Really?"

_We were trying to figure out if any girls have ever been interested in us._

**TRAITOR!**

Peter couldn't help himself. He brought both his hands up to cover his face and he laughed. He laughed so hard he doubled over. Then he couldn't breathe.

"Choke on spit and die Petrelli!" Peter righted himself and his laughs came out accompanied by a whiny keen. Sylar stomped past the nurse and into the bathroom, where he slammed the door shut.

When Peter finally got himself under control he slid to his knees in front of the bathroom door and pressed his forehead against it.

"You shouldn't be trying to figure out how many girls liked you when you were younger." Peter heard a muffled 'Why not?' and figured that Gabriel had taken over. He knew that meant this conversation would at least be heard out, but he also knew that if the door was still locked then Gabriel had been hurt by the laughter too.

"Well, for starters you're not into girls so it shouldn't matter."

"It still matters!"

"Okay, okay, I guess it can still matter. But you grew into your looks Brei. Girls may not have liked you in high school but look at you now."

"No one fawned over me at the shop."

"How many young girls came into that shop? And who of them could have spied the sexiness that hides behind those Argyle sweaters?"

Gabriel lets out a small huff of a laugh and Peter smiles into the door.

"And you know what else?"

"What?"

"I looked like a girl in high school. Only boys hit on me...weird boys. Boys that knew the difference between Pale Pink and Baby Pink at a glance."

Gabriel laughed again, this time it sounded closer. When Peter felt the door shift back against his forehead he knew Gabriel had come to sit against it.

"I'm glad girls didn't hit on you in high school Brei."

"Why?"

"Because one of them might have snatched you away from me."

Peter sat on his knees with his forehead pressed against the door for a long time. In the bathroom Gabriel had his back and head resting against the door.

When he finally came out Peter sat back cross legged and pulled Gabriel to curl up in his lap, the watchmakers head tucked firmly under his chin.

**Elle thought I was hot.**

"Hm, okay Sylar."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	6. Chapter 6

December 6th

Waffles

3rd Person POV

_Round and round and round it goes. Where it stops nobody knows._

**Don't stand so close. You'll get brain damage...more brain damage.**

_Go away Sylar! I don't need you poking fun at me this early in the morning._

**Not my fault you think it's okay to stand so close to a microwave. Is this why I came around? Did you go pressing your face against microwaves before I came along? **

_Stop it! This is why I have problems! My own head won't stop picking on me._

**I'm not picking on you. It's constructive critisim and natural curiosity**

"I'm done talking to you."

Peter peeked over the top of the newspaper he was reading and raised an eyebrow at Gabriel. He was interested, but he knew better than to get involved. An argument between Sylar and Gabriel was complicated enough without an empath there to egg it on. The last time he'd interrupted a fight between the two he'd been knocked unconscious and woke up four hours later butt naked on the roof of a mental asylum. Peter was sure there was a message hidden in that scenario for him but he tried not to think too hard about it.

Gabriel touched his reflection on the microwave wistfully but was started by the chime seconds later. He removed his now warm syrup and brought it over to the table.

"Why do you like warm syrup on your waffles?" Gabriel smiled goofily and took a large bite of his waffles. It was thoroughly drenched in syrup, making it soggy.

"Why do you like it cold." Peter grinned into his orange juice at the sight of syrup running down his boyfriend's chin.

"I like the contrast. Warm waffles and cold syrup, it feels good in my mouth."

"Well I like how the warm syrup feels too."

"In your mouth?"

"In my stomach. It makes my stomach warm, I like it." Gabriel blushed and ducked his head away from Peter's gaze and continued to plow through his waffles. Peter had already finished his waffles, not having been distracted by whatever Sylar had to say this morning. So he was free to watch Gabriel enjoy his breakfast.

The watchmaker ate with gusto. He licked his lips often, so as not to waste the syrup, and chewed with thoughtful 'hmmm' and 'yum' noises. Peter found it cute that he obviously didn't know he was doing it. Gabriel was in his own little world, and it was a warm gooey one.

There was still a trail of syrup running down his chin and a tiny bit holding crumbs to the corner of his mouth. After every swallow he would run his tongue across the front of his top teeth to lick up any hiding syrup before taking another bite. On particularly soggy bites he would savor the little mound of waffles, his cheeks poofing out and lips tugging up in a smile. It was like watching a child eat.

When the last of Gabriel's waffles were gone he looked sadly at his plate and pushed his fork through the last remains of still warm syrup on his plate.

"Do you want me to make you some more Brei?"

Gabriel blushed and shook his head. "It'll make me lazy...and fat too probably." Peter got up and rounded the table. He pushed Gabriels' chair forward a bit and sat on his lap. He licked the cooling syrup and crumbs off of Gabriels' face and then kissed the tip of his nose.

"A lazy Gabriel is a cute Gabriel. And a couple of extra waffles won't make you fat. I'm a nurse, you can trust me." Gabriel smiles at Peter and kisses him quickly on the cheek.

"Okay, but I'd like to try them with cold syrup this time."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	7. Chapter 7

December 7th

Peircing

-Peter's thoughts are Underlined and Gabriel's thoughts are still in itallics.-

3rd Person POV

After a long night of exhaustive, questionable acrobatic sex, Peter saw something amazing. There was a scar just below Gabriel's right eyebrow. At first Peter thought it was just a scar left over from childhood chicken pox. He would have continued to think that if he hadn't spotted a small scar hidden just inside the line of Gabriel's eyebrow a week later.

Peter found it fascinating. Gabriel had a piercing. Gabriel had an eyebrow peircing. It was amazing to think about. Peter had always had an active imagination and instead of simply asking Gabriel about it he spent days fantasizing about it.

Did he go to a piercing shop, like one of those seedy ones in the heart of Queens? Or did he lean in close over his bathroom sink and do it himself with a sewing needle? Was his mother mad, or did he hide it? Was it peer pressure or just teenage curiosity? Did he have a barbell or a hoop? Or did Sylar do it? Was that how people told the difference between Gabriel and Sylar before Sylar had a name?

Peter found himself staring at the little scar more and more. Sylar had begun to notice, even Gabriel had noticed the looks. But still Peter didn't ask. He was having so much fun just imagining. He was afraid if he knew the truth it would lose its luster, it's intrigue.

Peter started running his finger across Gabriels eyebrow when they broke apart from kisses. He'd bite at the scar then sooth it with long swipes of the tongue while having sex with Sylar. It was becoming something of a fetish and Gabriel wasn't quite sure what to do with it. But Sylar had a plan.

- - - - - - - - - - -

When Peter got off his shift he'd been looking forward to a nice quiet night with his lover(s). He was thinking about ordering some Chinese and watching a hokey B-flick on Sy-Fy. And if the night went well he was hoping to get a little necking time with Gabriel. Sylar was always fun, but he just wasn't feeling 'on' tonight. It was nice to just kick back and be gentle in bed.

But Peter's hopes were lost when he opened his apartment door and was greeted with darkness. There was no smell of Earl Gray tea, no gentle hum of Bobby Darin or the Beatles, there wasn't even a note next to the key bowl by the door.

The nurse sighed, and with hunched shoulders, shuffled towards his bedroom to change. He fought the childish urge to pout just in case Sylar was lurking about somewhere, waiting in the wings to jump out and scare or mock him. Peter flicked his bedroom light on and baulked.

Gabriel was sitting, legs crossed, bare ass naked in the middle of the bed, complete with a tarnished silver barbell through his eyebrow. Peter knew right away that it was Gabriel. Sylar would never bite his lip that way, or lower his eyes and look off to the side. And that blush, from cheekbones to collarbone was just too innocent to belong to the ex-killer.

Gabriel looked up at Peter shyly and nervously wound his hands together in front of himself. Although his legs were open he was trying and failing, quite spectacularly, to cover himself. But that only drew more attention to lap.

You'll never know how cute you are, will you?

Peter dropped his messenger bag and quickly kicked away his shoes. He prepared to run straight to the bed and pounce, but thought better of it. Instead he took his time and walked calmly to the bed and slowly crawled onto it and up to Gabriel. He was still on all fours when he gave the shy little watchmaker a soft kiss and crooked smile.

"You did this for me Brei?" Gabriel bites his lip harder and ducks his head down to smile.

"Hm, Sylar gave me the idea though." Peter curled a finger under Gabriels chin and nudged his head up. He gave the watchmaker another gentle kiss on the mouth, then another on the tip of his nose. He brought his thumb up to rub across Gabriels bottom lip.

"How did Sylar know what I wanted?" Gabriel closed his eyes opened his mouth. He licked at Peter's thumb and sucked on it softly when Peter slipped it inside his mouth.

_Sylar says you aren't very subtle._ Peter smiled and pulled his thumb away from Gabriel, ignoring the soft whine that accompanied the retreat. Peter backed off the bed and undressed before climbing back on. He moved closer on his knees until they bumped Gabriels and then he took his lovers head in both hands.

Peter had been dreaming about that piercing, having dirty fantasy's more like, and now that he had Gabriel here with it he just couldn't contain his pleasure. It was a small silver curved bar. The balls at the end were dotted with small magenta gems. The dark pinkish color should have looked innocent, but the way it contrasted the dark chocolate of Gabriel's eyes was anything but.

Peter leaned forward and sucked the piercing into his mouth. He heard Gabriels' soft gasp and smiled against the metal. He sucked gently on it as he ran his fingers through Gabriel's hair. The watchmaker had always loved that, the feel of fingers pulling across his scalp, but had no idea someone sucking on his eyebrow could feel good. Peter had no idea sucking on someones eyebrow could feel so good.

Learn something new every day.

Gabriel nervously placed his hands on Peters hips and nuzzled his nose as far as he could into Peter's neck without yanking out his piercing. He kissed lightly at Peter's neck, contemplated biting but he didn't. Instead he kept up a steady rain of kisses and kitten licks that had Peter panting around the barbell.

"Good. So good Gabriel." Gabriel smiles into Peters neck, proud of the compliment. The nurse pulls back from the peircing and admires what he's done. Gabriels hair is tousled and some of it falls forwards into his eyes. A stray strand catches onto the piercing, shiny with spit.

"Am I pretty?"

"Always Brei." Peter smiles crookedly and pushes Gabriel gently to lie back. The watchmaker lies back slowly and his hands fidget nervously, fighting the urge to cover himself. He's biting his lip and looking away when Peter leans down and takes a nipple in his mouth.

Gabriel lets out a breathy 'oh' and lays his hands in Peter's hair. The nurse begins sucking softly. Peter slowly brings his body flush against his boyfriends while still sucking gently. He brings his left hand up to rub slow circles around Gabriel's other nipple while placing a soft kiss on the right. He licks coyly around the edge of the nipple, smiling when stray hair catches on his lips.

Gabriel whimpers softly, half in pleasure and half in embarrassment. He tries to reach down and move his chest hair away but Peter stops him. "I like it, the way it tickles my face. And besides, I don't have any, I like to think of it as sharing yours." Gabriel makes a noise, not agreeing, but not upset either so Peter sees fit to continue on. He rubs his nose through his boyfriends chest hair, smiles into it, and places a kiss in the center of his chest before rising up on his hands and knees again.

He kisses Gabriel's nose, then his lips, his chin, and then kisses wetly at the adam's apple. He runs his hands down Gabriel's sides and rests then just above his hips. He lowers his face and runs his nose tip from breastbone to navel and licks at Gabriel's bellybutton. He wonders briefly what a piercing there would be like and if he could talk Sylar into it at some point.  
Gabriel's breath is hitching and the noises he's making are oddly feminine. It's a large contrast to Sylars deep groans and choked moans. Peter likes it. He likes that he's skilled enough to please both of this lovers so completely.

"Almost there Brei, almost." Peter kisses the base of Gabriel's groin, where black curly hair gives way to soft pink flesh, before raising up on his knees and running his hands across Gabriel's thighs. His hands rest on top of the watchmaker's knees and his thumbs rub soothing circles on the insides of the joints. He squeezes gently and Gabriel bends his legs, raising his knees up.

"Ready?" Gabriel nods and worries his lower lip some more. The way he continuously shifts his head brings stray locks of hair forward to catch on his piercing. The magenta peeks out teasingly from behind a particularly tousled lock and Peter can't help but moan.

He runs his hands down from Gabriel's knees, up his thighs, and rest them lightly where the leg meets hip. His thumbs press into the crease between thigh and groin and Gabriel opens his legs a bit wider. Peter telekinetically brings forth a pillow, condom, and some lube. He puts the pillow under Gabriels hips and leaves the rest aside for now.

Peter presses his nose into Gabriels perenium and smiles as the girlish giggle mixed with a sigh that he gets in return. He kisses there once before moving down farther. At the first lick Gabriel's hips twitch and his fingers clentch into the sheets. Peter stills for a moment, his tongue just resting flat against Gabriel's entrance, allowing him to get adjusted. Once Gabriel relaxes he begins a series of steady licks with the broad flat of his tongue.

Gabrial pants and whines against the onslaught, his head tossing from side to side against the pillow. When Peter finally pushes his tongue inside Gabriel's opening the watchmaker makes a long 'mmm' noise and all the muscles in his legs go taught. Peter pulls away to rub his hands soothingly along Gabriels thighs.

"It's okay Brei, just relax. I've got you." When Gabriel relaxes Peter opens the lube and spreads it on his fingers. Gabriel eyes his boyfriend's hand warily but doesn't close his legs. "It's water based and non-scented Brei. I know what you like." Gabriel relaxes again and smiles softly at the ceiling. Peter rests one finger against Gabriels opening, just lets it rest there for a moment, making Gabriel fully aware of what he's about to do. Then he pushes in.

Peter works slowly and carefully. There's no sudden movements, no scratching, and no dirty talk. Gabriel likes it gentle, needs it to be gentle. So when Peter finds Gabriels prostate he doesn't jab at it harshly like would with Sylar. Instead he crooks a single finger and massages gently at the nub. Gabriel lets out long feminine keening sounds that taper off into high pitched pants. His lips are moving and his head turns from side to side slowly.

Peter removes his fingers and opens the condom slowly. The noise of the foil is loud in his ears and he can't wait for the next part of this. He rolls the condom on slowly, then lubes himself up before wiping his fingers against his stomach. He pulls on of Gabriels legs up and kisses the side of his knee, then puts the leg over his shoulder.

"Ready Gabriel?" The watchmaker chews at a single knuckle and murmurs yes around it. Peter smiles down at him all while pushing in. Before Peter gets in any more than the head of his penis Gabriel tenses all over. It's always this way. Peter thanks the patience his new life has given him and waits out the initial panic. Nearly half a minute later Gabriel relaxes again and Peter can push the rest of the way in.

When his pelvis pushes flush against Gabriels he stills. Peter strokes softly at the thigh still against the mattress and kisses the knee resting on his shoulder. Then he runs his hands towards Gabriels hips and under to grab gently at Gabriel's ass. When the watchmaker tugs coyly at his eyebrow piercing Peter gropes Gabriels ass and sticks out his tongue.

"I'm ready Peter."

"'Kay." Peter rubs his thumbs in slow circles against Gabriel's ass and he started to pull out. He moved slowly and shallowly, letting Gabriel adjust to the feeling of having sex. He found that with Gabriel it was always better to err on the side of caution. It wasn't long before Gabriel got lost in the feeling. The knuckle he'd been chewing on was hovering just over his bottom lip with a small string of saliva making a bridge between the two. His face was flushed pink and the color carried down to his sternum. And he was making constant breathy 'ohs' and 'ahs'.

Peter began pushing deeper. He grunted softly whenever his pelvis pushed into Gabriels groin. Soon Peter eased Gabriel's hips back onto the pillow and spread his own knees farther apart to compensate for the difference. He ran his hands anywhere he could. Peter would stroke softly from Gabriel's boney hips, up his sides, and all across his belly. Then he'd pull back and run his fingertips across Gabriel's thighs, then back down to teasingly brush his perenium.

Gabriel was a mess of relaxed muscles, goosebumps, and breathless moans. Peter smiled down at the sight of his usually uptight lover being so undone. He looked debauched in an innocent way, if that was even possible.

When Peter felt the tell-tale tingling in his toes that told him he was close he reached out to stroke across Gabriel's erection. The watchmakers whole body spasmed in shock and delight. Peter held his hand still for a moment, just resting lightly at his base, then began stroking. A firm pressure all the way up and a flick of the wrist near the head. Gabriel's moans were intterupted by small keening noises. His hips were jerking lightly in sync with Peter's hand.

Peter eased Gabriel's leg off of his shoulder and wrapped it around his waiste He leaned forward and blew lightly across the head and pulled his face back quickly. Gabriel's come splattered across his own stomach and mixed with the sweat already there. Gabriel was huffing out Peter's name in a constant mantra.

Peter resisted the urge to lick at Gabriels flagging erection, knowing it would mean he'd get no kisses later. Instead he focused on Gabriel's piercing. He had a clear view of it now, Gabriel's hair was sweaty and matted back against the pillow and his ears. A few more thrusts and Peter came quietly, rolling his hips into Gabriel, riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm.

When it was all over Peter pulled gently away, removed his condom and tied it off. He threw it into the trashcan by the bed and lazily reached over to get some tissues. Gabriel let out an appreciative huff when Peter began cleaning him. When Peter was done he crawled up the bed towards Gabriel, bringing the pillow with him. He pushed the pillow onto his side of the bed and let Gabriel mesh them together.

The watchmaker curled around Peter, trying to compensate for the height difference. His nose was buried in Peter's neck, his arms tucked securely around Peter's middle, and his legs were bent and tangled with Peters. He felt warm and safe, and vaguely like he was made of jello and play dough.

"Thank you Brei. It's beautiful on you." Peter nosed and sniffed into Gabriel's hair, catching the faint sent of Old Spice underneath the sweat.

"I'd do almost anything for you Peter." There was silence for a long time and just as Peter was about to drift to sleep he felt Gabriel look up at him.

"Someday I think I'll let you do it without the condom." Before Peter could reply Gabriel blushed a deep red and kissed his neck. He buried his face there and showed no signs of wanting to leave that position. Peter thought it was a perfectly good sentiment to go to sleep on.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	8. Chapter 8

December 8th

Dirty Poems

3rd Person POV

**Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house  
clothes were strewn all around and all about.  
A pair of shorts and some boxers I could see  
and something else which-dare I say?-resembled a tree.  
No branches were found, it appeared quite smooth  
excluding some veins which appeared where it grooved.  
Standing so tall, I admired it's girth  
it's weight in gold couldn't measure it's worth!  
As I grew closer, I shook with desire!**

"Sylar...that's disgusting."

Sylar grin lecherously at the tent in the sheets.

"Not my fault you were having a dirty dream." Peter huffed and reached under the covers. Just as he was about to grab himself he looked over at Sylar warily. The reformed killer was sitting perfectly still, propped up on one elbow, just watching.

Peter watched him out the corner of his eyes anyways, just in case. He reached slowly into his sweat pants and began stroking himself. He liked it a bit firmer than Gabriel but definitely lighter than Sylar. Peter bit his lip and worked himself faster, finally taking his eyes off Sylar.

**To mount this tree would surely ignite my fire!  
I strained and I huffed as I sat on this tree.  
I felt as if something would rupture inside of me.  
With each stroke brought discomfort, but as time wore on  
I found the pain I had felt was completely gone.  
My nuts, they rose! My teeth did chatter!  
I put a sock in my mouth so the bastards wouldn't shatter!  
I grabbed my cock 'cause something went crazy!  
This tree I had sat on had become all sick and lazy.**

Peter's rhythm faltered and he squeezed a bit too hard in his shock. "Damn it Sylar! Cut that out." Sylar just laughed and used telekinesis to set Peter in motion again.

"Don't stop on my account." When the telekinesis fell away Peter began working himself again, now using his free hand to tug on his balls. With one final brush against his glands, Peter came.

**I jumped off of it as quick as I could,  
but it was too late. It did no good.  
It laid there all flaccid in a pool of wet mess  
so I stroked myself while it took a little rest.  
And wouldn't you know it, just as I gave the final stroke  
****that log started to rise and quickly awoke!  
But I was too far gone-there was no turning back.  
My head thrashed about-I had an attack!**

"Sylar! No...fine, you go ahead. I'm going back to sleep." Sylar grinned and pounced on the nurse. He sat himself on Peter's stomach and lewdly ground down against the nurses belly button.

"You're not going to sleep yet Petrelli. You've got to hear the rest of the poem." Sylar pressed his palms over Peter's nipples to keep himself balanced and rubbed himself harder against the nurse.

**So I laid there next to the log, now a tree.  
I looked up at it, and it down on me.  
"Wow!", I said with detectable delight.**

Sylar pulled one hand back to press his erection flat against Peter's stomach. He held his hand there tight and rocked back and forth into the tunnel he'd created. Peter reached out with a single finger and scratched the tip of his erection. Sylar came with a groan. His spunk shot out in ribbons to mingle with Peter's cooling semen.

"It's been a good day and one hell of a good night..."

Sylar leaned back and sat heavily on Peter's groin. He was smiling like an idiot, proud of his dirty poem, and still on his orgasm high.

"It's 5 am. I have work today. So either clean this mess up or start making it worth my while to stay up." Sylar made a 'tch' noise but leaned forward to begin licking up his mess anyways.

**I thought it was funny.**

A/N: I did not write that dirty poem. ^^ Wish I had though. I got it off of . This was originally suppose to have a little food dye prank in it but then I found that poem and had to change my mind. So keep an eye out for future food-dye related pranks.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	9. Chapter 9

December 9th

Misunderstanding

3rd Person POV

Peter entered his apartment with a great sense of apprehension. He'd gotten a call near the tail end of his shift with Hesam. The first half of the call was great. Gabriel had called to say how much he missed him and that he hoped Peter was safe and saving people. Hesam was standing by laughing quietly and miming kissy faces. Peter smiled along with him, happy for the strikingly normal moment.

Then things went to hell.

Peter heard loud a door burst open. Then some muffled yelling. Hesam had stared in shock at the phone, only vaguely aware that Gabriel had some mental disorder. Peter heard some throwing around and when he called out to find out what was going on it was Sylar that answered him. "I'll call back later...honey-bunch."

Peter had sputtered at the dial tone and had to suffer through the rest of his shift at the questioning stares of Hesam. Peter was dying to know who had barged into his apartment and what the hell had happened after.

His apartment was trashed. Well, it _had_ been trashed, right now it was in the process of being cleaned. Sylar was sitting on an overturned speaker using telekinesis to put things back where they belonged and moving all the broken things to one side. Peter's bag fell from his shoulder as he took in the sight. Books were thrown about, the couch was overturned, and there were several cracks in the plaster. Sylar should be feeling rather pleased about that last bit, he said it pained him to live in a home with purple walls.

"What happened...lover?"

Sylar smirked and kept moving things about. Peter side stepped a hovering picture frame and made his way over to the reformed killer. He raised his hands up in an unarmed gesture and opened his mouth several times but ended up saying nothing. He put his hands on Sylar's shoulders and smiled.

"Was it boogeyman related?"

"I'm insulted Peter! Honestly, what must you think of me?" Peter dug his fingers firmly into Sylar's shoulders.

"I will withhold sex from you tonight if you don't tell me." Sylar shrugged Peter away and smirked.

"I think I'll survive the night." Peter tucked his thumbs into his jeans and bit his lower lip.

"Oh yeah? But I had been hoping to show you something."

Peter heard a few objects drop behind him.

"Show me what?"

Peter looked coyly at Sylar from under his lashes.

"A present for you. A...sexy present." Sylar stood up swiftly and righted the speaker the manual way and pushed it over to its proper corner. He stood up straight and smoothed out the front of his shirt before looking Peter in the eye.

"It was Mohinder related." Peter groaned, expecting the worst. "Have some faith Petrelli!" Peter just buried his face in his hands and waited for the long-winded, waxing philosophical, excuses.

"What did you two do to each other Sylar?"

Sylar shifted his weight from foot to foot, obviously thinking about how to explain.

"I passed by Molly Walker earlier today when I left the shop for lunch." Peter groaned loudly and stared at the ceiling. He put his hands together in a mock prayer and mouthed 'why me' to the ceiling. Sylar threw a pillow at his head. "Listen before you judge damn it!"

"I saw Molly earlier today and well...my intuitive aptitude just got away from me."

"You didn't threaten her!"

"No! I...well she wasn't broken...but something was about to break...kind of..." Peter raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth.

What the hell could he mean...

"Sylar you have to be more specific." Sylar blushed and looked away from Peter. The killer contemplated fleeing into the safety of his head and letting Gabriel finish up this debacle but he didn't want to seem like a coward. And he wanted his present.

"It was sort of like how I saw Charlie's aneurism. Or how I know when a bum has a mental disorder."

"So you're saying Molly is dying?"

"No...but she is going to be bleeding profusely here shortly...and I told her so...and she panicked."

"Bleeding...profusely?" It was quiet for a few minutes except for a small awkward cough from Sylar. Then it clicked.

Bleeding profusely! Molly's a teenager! Oh...OH! Oh...poor Molly...or maybe poor Mohinder?

"So you just stopped in the street in front of a girl you once tried to kill just to cryptically tell her she was about to get her first period?" Sylar nodded.

"She was wearing khaki pants. Bloods a bitch to get out of khaki...And I never intended to kill her. I don't kill kids, what kind of monster did you take me for?! I just intended to kidnap her and use her a little."

Peter stood up, entirely at a loss for words. He put one hand over his eyes in a frustrated gesture and raised the other one to tell Sylar to stay put. "I'm going to call Mohinder and tell him that you weren't threatening her. And...I guess I'll tell him to go by some tampons..."

Peter found the phone underneath a heap of old newspapers. He leaned his forehead against the wall and tucked his free hand into his pocket.

"Hey Mohinder...yeah it's Peter."

_"Peter! Your boyfriend-!"_

"Yeah, I know. Listen...Molly's going to get her period today."

_"Period?"_ Peter thunk his head against the wall once.

"Yeah. The convenience store down the street from your loft should carry tampons and pads. Buy one box of each in junior size. Tell her to try each so she can see what she likes best. If she starts feeling nauseous or itchy while using a tampon then she's allergic. If that happens just have her take it out and bring her to the hospital."

_"Period?"_

"Yeah...Mohinder..."

_"...per...iod..."_ Peter tries a softer, consoling voice that he sometimes uses to coax Gabriel out of the bathtub.

"Hey...Mohinder...Momo...I'll just give Claire your number. Would you like that?"

_"...yeah..."_ Mohinder muttered 'period' a few more times.

"You might want to tell Molly and go get them soon. Sylar says blood's hard to get out of khaki. If you don't make it in time use peroxide. If that doesn't get it all try milk after the wash." Peter heard some static and assumed Mohinder was nodding.

"I'm hanging up now. Go to the store...take Molly with you...sorry about Sylar." Peter hung up and sighed into the wall. He felt like laughing hysterically. All this worry and destruction over a period prophecy.

Peter felt hands draw up his sides. "Can I have my present now?" Peter wiggled his hips away from Sylar's hands.

"Maybe I should make you wait until Christmas." Peter could practically feel the frown burning into his neck.

"But I didn't do anything wrong! I was trying to help!" Peter smiles against the wall and presses his butt against Sylar's groin.

"I guess a good deed does deserve a reward." Sylar smirks and steps away from Peter. When the nurse turns he makes a 'come hither' motion with his finger.

"My present?" Peter turns and smiles. He bites his lip and lowers his eyes shyly. He runs his fingertips across the hem of his shirt. He tilts his head to the side and grips the sides of his shirt. He rocks his hips from side to side and raises the opposite side of his shirt with each rock. Then he runs his palms towards his stomach and hooks his fingers under his shirt.  
Sylar tries to step forward and yank the shirt away from Peter but the nurse steps back.

"Ah ah ah. Presents have to be properly unwrapped." Sylar huffs and crosses his arms, but stays put. Peter unbuttons his pants and pulls them down slightly to hug at his thighs. He kisses the air in Sylar's direction before finally pulling his shirt up.

Sylar gave a low whistle. Peter had gotten his bellybutton pierced. There was a small curved barbell, most likely Gabriel's influence, but at the bottom was a small gemmed cherry.

"Because you popped my gay cherry lover." Peter smirked framed the piercing with his dainty hands. Sylar stepped forward, eager to tug and bite at the shining cherry but Peter held him back with telekinesis.

"What?"

"Clean this mess up or your better half will be the one enjoying this tonight." With that Peter stalked off into the bedroom, which had made it through the ordeal remarkably unscathed.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	10. Chapter 10

December 10th

Gifts

Peter's POV

Fifteen days until Christmas...that's plenty of time to shop. There's no pressure to get everything today. I know exactly who I need to get gifts for so its not like I'll be running around trying to guess if I have enough gifts. Maybe I should just head home and think about it some more.

"You're shopping today Petrelli."

Damn. "There's still fifteen days left...fourteen days to shop. That's plenty of time Sylar."  
"I'm not arguing with you Petrelli, but you try having a whiny OCD voice in your head bugging you to do things on time. Do me a favor and shut him up." Sylar props his feet up on the table and rubs his eyes warily.

"Get your feet off the table and I'll go." Sylar puts his feet down and looks up at me with his bedroom eyes.

"Does Sylar get to ask Santa for a special gift." I stop just short of the door and look teasingly over my shoulder.

"Didn't you know? Only good boys get presents." I sprint out of the apartment before Sylar can catch me.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

I know too many people. Okay Peter, life is full of choices. Now you have to choose who to snub. Who gets an actual gift and who gets the sting of a card...Maybe I should get blank cards so I can at least personalize them. Hm...who gets stuck with a card?

Claire, Gabriel, Mom, Mohinder, Emma, Hesam, and Renee get gifts. Noah, Hiro, Ando, Molly, Micah, Matt, Janice, and Gretchen get cards. Well wait...maybe I should send money to Molly and Micah with their cards...and maybe I should send little Mattie a teddy bear. Or maybe I shouldn't send anything to the Parkmans, ever since I started dating Gabriel we haven't been on the best of terms. But 'tis the season...damn...fourteen days is not long enough.

And Sylar...I'm sorely tempted to just give him a blowjob and be done with it. But I know he'll be upset. He won't say anything but he'll sulk and bitch and moan about every little detail all day and then he'll tear me up inside at night.

Shopping sucks.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Okay, so I've gotten Claire a nice pair of red pumps. I found a nifty little sepia globe with an hourglass inside it. I bought Mom a night and day at a Spa in the middle of the desert. God knows she needs it. As a joke I got Mohinder some tinker toys. I figure he can make little 3-D genetic sequences with it. I bought a book for Emma and a leather jacket for Hesam.

I'm still working on Renee's gift. It has to be something really profound. He's saved my ass more times than I can count, more times than I even know about I'm sure. I was looking into buying him a plane ticket but he travels all over the world for the company. Maybe I should get him a suit...

Sylar was difficult to shop for. Gabriel had been easy. I saw the nice little globe sitting in the shop window and it just screamed 'Gabriel' at me. There's something strikingly simple about shopping for old souls. It's...refreshing, to know that something homey, simple, and reasonably priced can mean the world to a person.

But after I found Gabriel's gift I spent hours wandering the mall just window shopping. What do you get a reformed serial killer for Christmas? What do you get a reformed serial killer that hates all of the religious connotations of Christmas?

So far as I know this is the first Christmas Sylar plans on being a part of. Gabriel explained to me that Sylar felt bitter over Virginia's strict Catholic ways. Gabriel said he had to beg to get Sylar to agree to an hour long appearance on the big day. I don't want to waste that hour on a crappy gift. I wish I were more sparing with my blowjobs. It just isn't special if you do it once a week. Great, but not special.

I don't want to get him anything that toys with the idea of brains or abilities. I don't want to get him something that reminds him that he's still a criminal in a lot of peoples eyes. I don't want to get him something impersonal. It has to be special. Sylar is _so_ special to me and I just don't know what I could possibly get him that would show that. I'm not just in love with Gabriel. I honestly and truly love Sylar and I need him to _know_ that. I need him to really know that, not just assume it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sylar is asleep on the couch when I get home. His legs are dangling over the side and he's drooling heavily onto the throw pillow under his head. I walk over to him quietly and pull the throw from the floor and cover him with it.

I smile at the picture he makes. Big, bad, boogeyman Sylar is drooling into my purple couch and wiggling his toes in his sleep. I'm terrified, honest and truly.

I love moments like these. When he's quiet and calm and I can just watch, it's nice. I mean, I love the snarky comments and quick kisses I get from him. And I like the helpless blushes and shaky hands I get from Gabriel. But sometimes it's just nice to get some peace. It seems like the only time I get to see him completely at ease, completely unguarded, are when he's asleep or reading.

Maybe I shouldn't get Sylar anything at all. Maybe I should just spend our hour lying together quietly. I'll tell him how much I love him, and I won't let him go until he knows. 

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	11. Chapter 11

December 11th

Cleanliness

3rd Person POV

Gabriel was in the midst of his pre-holiday cleaning ritual. He was on his hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor, complete with bright yellow latex gloves. The sleeves of his bulky knit sweater were pushed up to his elbows and his hair was pushed back inside of a black bandana.

Peter was sitting on the arm of his couch watching Gabriel's ass jerk back and forth with the watchmakers scrubbing motions. The nurse took a deep breath and was assaulted by the smell of lemon cleaner and febreeze. His apartment had never looked so clean.

At first Peter had insisted that cleaning _now_ for Christmas was ridiculous; but Gabriel had insisted that Sylar's mess after the fight with Mohinder had yet to be cleaned up properly. Peter had tried coy kisses and lingering caresses, but the thought of a dirty home was too much for Gabriel to stand. And the cleaning had begun.

Peter had just finished filling the wall cracks with plaster and had smoothed them out. In the time it had taken him to do the one task Gabriel had vacuumed, righted several picture frames, and was now half way through with the meticulous scrubbing of the kitchen floor.

"Do you want to stop and eat Brei?"

Gabriel's scrubbing motion faltered but he continued. He shook his head roughly from side to side but gave no verbal acknowledgment to the question.

_So dirty. I haven't cleaned this place properly in nearly a month. What was I thinking?_

**That Peter looks good naked among his filth.**

Gabriel tutted at Sylar but did not deny the claim. He knew the most likely reason for the break in his routine was in fact due to the nurse. Peter kept a clean house, but not Gabriel clean. And Gabriel had overlooked this detail in favor of some affection. The watchmaker scrubbed harder at the floor, he was sure it could be cleaner. So sure.

Peter frowned at Gabriel's behavior. Cleaning the house was all fine and good but twenty year old tile could only get so white. The nurse walked quietly behind Gabriel, stopping just short of his socked feet.

"Brei."

Gabriel continued to scrub. Some of his hair had fallen loose of the bandana and was curling down to tickle at his nose.

"Gabriel."

Still no response. The sound of steady, constant brush strokes over tile and the faint rustle of wool rubbing against wool weighed heavily in Peter's ears.

"Gabriel Gray!"

The scrubbing stopped. The kitchen was silent. Everything was silent. Peter could only read the hum of mental static coming from Gabriel's mind and neither of them were quite ready to break the silence. For several minutes the only sound in the apartment was the faint background noise of New York life filtering in from the windows and the fizzling out of soap bubbles. Then Gabriel let out a small sob.

"I-I'm so s-sorry Peter."

His shoulders shook slightly with every sob, but he remained straight-backed, sitting on his knees. Peter came forward and knelt beside him, gently pushing the taller man to rest against him.

"Shh, shh, it's okay Gabriel. I'm not mad."

Gabriel sobbed louder and tried weakly to get away. But Peter held tight. He ignored the uncomfortable feel of soapy water soaking into denim and the painful way Gabriel's elbow dug into his chest.

**He's not going to let go until you **_**calm down**_**.**

Peter heard Sylar's thought, almost whispered into Gabriel's consciousness. And Gabriel obeyed. He stopped struggling and slumped into Peter, his legs crooking more so he could sprawl more comfortably. He pressed his mouth into Peter's neck and took a few deep breaths.

"I'm sorry Peter."

The nurse fought the urge to shiver at the sensation of Gabriel's lips fluttering against his neck. Instead he loosened his hold and ran his hands soothingly up and down Gabriel's body.

"You don't have to be sorry Brei."

They sat quietly for a minute, just enjoying the closeness and the sudden calm of the moment.

"Why are you upset?"

Gabriel sniffled and mumbled into Peter's throat.

**Speak up. Or think louder.**

Peter pressed his nose into Gabriel's hair and kissed lightly at his crown.

_It wasn't clean enough. I thought it wasn't. It is clean. I just thought it could be cleaner. I'm sorry._

"You don't need to be sorry about that."

_No, I do. I __do__ need to be sorry for the trouble I've caused. I've caused so much trouble. And..._

"And?"

_And I cause __you__ a lot of trouble. You always have to tell me it's okay or that certain things aren't a big deal, but they are. And it isn't. You sacrifice so much for me. __Me.__ Who am I? Not someone important enough or beautiful __enough, or brave enough, or sane enough or-_

Peter pulled away from Gabriel just enough to look him in the eye.

"You are more than enough for me. You are more than enough to make me feel happy. More than enough to make me feel loved. It's worth it. I don't make sacrifices because of you Gabriel. I make them _for_ you, for us."

"But-"

"But nothing. You...and all of your crazy, make me happy."

Peter pulled Gabriel back to him and forced himself to take a deep calming breath. The last thing he needed was to start crying.

"Brei, I yelled at you because I didn't think you could hear me. It's okay to be obsessively clean. My landlord will probably thank you for it later. But you don't have to go overboard."

_But I can't help it sometimes. It's just...it's just __better__ when it's all clean. When everything is put away and clean it feels..._

"Like it's working properly."

"Yeah." The word was long and breathy against Peter's neck, said like a relief. The nurse dropped his head to nudge against Gabriels and thought carefully about his next words.

"Do what you need to do to feel at peace Gabriel. But only if it puts you at peace. If scrubbing the floors on your hands and knees stresses you out then don't do it. Concentrate on something or someone else."

_But it's so hard sometimes._

"I know. I know it is Brei. But if you let it control you like that bad things will happen. That's how Sylar happened remember."

**I **_**am**_** here you know.**

"I wasn't saying that you were inherently evil Sylar, just that you were a result of Gabriel tearing himself up inside. Wearing himself too thin..."

**Hm.**

Peter presses a lingering kiss to Gabriel's temple. Then drags his lips down lower as Gabriel brings his face up. Another kiss is pressed against Gabriel's cheek, then another at the side of his nose, then again on the tip.

"I feel like a slave to it Peter."

"I think if we take a bit of time each week to just sit around in a dirty apartment or break some things we might be able to work up your tolerance."

_Doesn't sound too good. It doesn't sound fun._

"We can start small, I'll leave my clothes on the floor while I shower. And maybe we can work our way up to wild and crazy condom free sex."

Gabriel shuddered at the thought of how messy sex would be that way. He was wary, but the laundry he could handle.

"Can I at least finish the rest of the kitchen?"

"Hm."  
Peter pulls away from Gabriel and rocks off of his knees and onto his feet.

"I'm going to order Indian."

"Why?"

"So we can eat with our fingers." 

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	12. Chapter 12

December 12th

Lipstick

3rd Person POV

People were screaming, coughing, crying, and muttering. And Sylar was getting fed up. It was too loud and too busy. He wanted to be at the apartment reading or out in the park enjoying the cool fall day. But instead he was at the hospital, sitting in an overly occupied waiting room.

There was a strong smell of antiseptic. The walls where blindingly white and the harsh flourescent lighting left no corner in darkness. Every chair was taken, by someone sick or someone coddling the sick. The magazines littering the small end tables were all outdated. The fake flower pots in the corners of the room needed to be dusted. And Sylar noted, with great disdain, that there wasn't a single tissue box in the entire waiting room.

**What the hell is the point of putting all these sick people in here at once to stew if they're not offered tissues?**

_I don't know. I do __not__ know. Please, don't make me come out._

**Yeah, because that's what Peter needs. I can see it now. You have a panic attack and run out of here like a girl while the nurse over there puts out a psych alert on the intercom.**

_If you're going to be unpleasant I'll leave you to yourself._

**No, no. Keep me occupied or I might choke this sniffling bastard next to me. Doesn't he know to blow not suck.**

"Maybe you could teach him the difference."

_Peter!_

"Peter."

Sylar stood up and faked a pleasant smile. None of Peter's co-workers were aware that Gabriel harbored a much darker side. All they knew was that Peter's new boyfriend was skittish, painfully shy, and pleasant. It would have been easier for Sylar to give Gabriel the rains but he wanted out. He missed strutting about and making passes at Peter. He could pretend to be sweet and timid for a little while. He'd done it with Mohinder for three days. An hour or so wouldn't kill him now.

So Sylar smiled and kissed Peter shyly on the cheek before taking his hand and allowing the shorter man to tug him down the halls. A few nurses waved, but even more hurried by without a glance in their direction. For once Sylar was glad he didn't have the ability to read minds.  
The thought of hearing everything made him sick to his stomach. Hospitals were torture chambers and mausoleums. The dead, the dying, and the certifiably insane flocked to hospitals and just waited there. Every one of them bored out of their mind with nothing to do but twiddle their thumbs and think. Sylar didn't know how Peter could do it. He couldn't fathom how an empath could stand to walk into the hospital every day and not go mad. He wondered if Peter just learned to tune it out, or if he really was just a fool oozing of unconditional love and warmth.

Peter urged Sylar into a dimly lit room. The file room, and at the desk was a pretty blond. Sylar could hear the ticking coming off of the woman. It filtered through his ears like it came from broken earbuds. The ticking was soft, but louder on one side, just slightly. The ticking niggled at his ears and held steady.

**She's deaf.**

Peter ignored the thought and smiled down at Emma. She put her earbuds away, out of courtesy, and stood to shake Sylar's hand. He smiled and shook with her. He introduced himself with a smile on his lips and light in his eyes. Peter stood to the side with his arms crossed, smiling at the picture they made.

There had been a time when he'd considered dating her. But after Nathan died the moment passed. Peter drew in on himself, hid away from Emma and her pretty lights, and wallowed in the darkness of his apartment and his depression. When Emma had grown concerned she dug through his medical history and found major depression tacked onto his file. Then she saw Nathan's smiling face on the news accompanied by the caption 'Senator Missing: Presumed Dead'. She hadn't pushed. She felt she had no right, not after what she had done because of Christopher.

Now the two of them were just good friends. Peter had learned sign language and Emma had agreed to wear a hearing aid in her left ear. She could hear whispers of things and it bothered her more than the colors, that hushed tone. But it made Peter smile so she did it.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Sylar was dying, figuratively. Peter had arranged a meeting with his work friends so that they could get to know each other. He'd been playing the part of the timid boyfriend finding his way in his first gay relationship. He'd received lots of support from Hesam, Emma, and some elderly pediatric nurse. Who coincidentally was making eyes at him. Sylar shivered in his seat and hugged himself as she winked and licked her lips in his direction.

**She's decrepit! Why is she still thinking about sex?**

_I think she likes our eyebrows._

**No one likes our eyebrows.**

_Peter does._

**Well Peter's a weirdo isn't he?**

Sylar was pulled out of his internal conversation when Peter put a hand on his shoulder.  
"Brei, what do you think?" Sylar gave an embarrassed smile and apologized for drifting away from the conversation.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You owe me Petrelli!"

Sylar practically pulled the door off its hinges when he opened it. He stomped towards the bedroom, stripping as he went. Peter saw a sneaker fly across the doorway and took a deep breath. He removed his own shoes calmly and untuck his shirt before walking into the bedroom.

"What do I owe you exactly?"

Sylar turned to his swiftly, a frown marring his face. He pointed at Peter, boxers still clenched in his fist.

"You _owe_ me!"

Peter sighed and pulled off his shirt.

"So we've established. _What_ do I owe you?"

Sylar stood up as straight as he could and let his boxers drop to the floor. He looked off to the side in thought and ran his hands up and down his chest.

**What should he do for us Gabriel?**

_I thought lunch was nice...except for Mrs. Holner._

**It was not nice! I had to pretend to be you to impress his dumb friends and that sex crazed hag.**

Peter huffed from his place at the door.

"Mrs. Holner is not a hag."

Sylar stomped his foot once like a child and ran his hands through his hair.

"She was eyeing us like a piece of meat."

Peter shook his head and came forward to Sylar. He put his hands on Sylar's hips and rubbed his thumbs softly up and down on the boney jut of his hip bones.

"I had no idea old lady eyes were a strong enough force to stop the elusive Sylar. How interesting."

Sylar tutted but didn't move away from Peter. The soft, soothing strokes weren't usually to his liking, but Peter up close and naked was.

"Take off your pants and boxers. Leave the socks and suck me off."

Peter frowned but moved away to do as asked.

"Okay, okay. Any particular requests Sylar? Should I call you master or put on lipstick?"

Sylar sat on the edge of the bed and spread his legs.

"That would be great."

Peter's mouth dropped open. He hadn't been serious but there was no denying the look on Sylar's face. He fully expected Peter to obey. The nurse took a deep calming breath and headed towards the bathroom. He was sure he had a tube of lipstick somewhere in there. He searched in vain for several minutes before finally finally seeing it underneath an old magazine.

"Bright red, of course."

Peter applied the lipstick in the mirror and frowned at his reflection. With tousled hair and a clean shaven face his features weren't masculine enough to counteract the makeup.

So help me if he develops a crossdressing fetish...

Peter rumpled his hair a bit more, allowing his bangs to fall forward over his eyes, before going back to the bedroom. He leaned against the door. He rested his elbow on the door and crooked it so his forearm rested against the top of his head. He brought his other hand down to push gently on his belly button piercing before sweeping it down to tangle in his pubic hair.

"Am I pretty?"

Sylar smirked and spread his legs wider.

"Like a girl Petrelli."

Peter pulled away from the door and walked up to Sylar, swaying his hips sensually. He went down to his knees and ran his hands slowly from kneecap to groin when he reached Sylar. He pressed his nose against Sylar's thigh and ran the tip of it up to press where the leg meets the groin.

"Ready master?"

"Yeah."

Peter smiled into Sylar's groin and pulled back just enough to give the first kitten lick. Peter made a big show of looking up at Sylar from under his lashes as he kept up the assault. The nurse repositioned his hands against Sylar's hips and kissed softly at the head of Sylar's penis. When he pulled back he could just make out the sticky shimmer of his lipstick.

Sylar reached forward and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Peter's ear.

"Suck Petrelli."

And he did. Peter had a fair amount of experience in what Sylar liked of oral sex. Light scrapes of teeth on the retreat and a waggling tongue on the descent. Biting the head was a big no-no despite the killers love of pain. But he enjoyed harsh treatment towards his perenium and balls.

Peter made sure to smear as much lipstick as he could. It was leaving bitter tasting trails all along Sylar's erection and even though he couldn't see properly from his point of view he was sure it made a pretty sight.

Sylar reached down to tangle his hand in Peter's hair and pulled him away. The nurses lips were swollen and shiny, still covered in bright red cosmetic. He pressed a thumb onto Peter's bottom lip and pressed. The nurse took it into his mouth and sucked teasingly at it, all the while looking haughtily up at Sylar. He bit gently and the killer pulled his thumb away. Then he pressed his thumb firmly to Peter's bottom lip and smeared the lipstick, pushing a red sticky trail below Peter's lip and onto the bottom corner of his cheek.

"You look like a whore."

Peter raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. He felt slightly frightened. He always did when Sylar was in control, but it was a good feeling. He liked the rush of not knowing coupled with the knowledge that everything would eventually work out. He was up for a little pain and suffering if it meant Gabriel would lick his wounds later. Figuratively.

"Tell me you're my whore."

"I'm your whore Sylar."

Sylar made a 'hm' noise and pushed Peter's face back towards his groin.

"Finish what you started."

Peter took Sylar back in his mouth and set to work. He moved quickly, progressively taking Sylar further and further with each bob of his head. When he finally reached the base he pushed his nose into Sylar's pubic hair and took a deep breath through his nose. Then he pushed his head from side to side while keeping his lips firmly at Sylar's base.

He pulled back slowly, letting his teeth drag lightly across Sylar's skin. He sucked harshly on the tip before sliding down again, once more deep throating his lover. He hummed pressed the flat of his tongue to the large vein on the underside of Sylar's prick.

Sylar was breathing heavily, but no words escaped his lips. He liked to remain as silent as possible when he was in charge; truly a challenge when faced with Peter's talented tongue. He kept his left hand on the top of Peter's head, his thumb working back and forth through the nurses hair.

When Sylar felt close he pulled Peter away and tried to catch his breath.

"I want it on your face."

"Are you gonna eat it after?"

"We'll see."

Peter licked his lips and noted that most of the lipstick was gone by now, leaving only a pasty aftertaste on his tongue. He bent forward to his task again, this time paying close attention to Sylar's circumcision scar. He licked with the point of his tongue and peppered kisses all around the head, humming all the while. When Peter put his lips just against the slit of Sylar's erection and sucked the killer came.

Peter pulled back and allowed the semen to splash across his face, only frowning when some got into his nose.

When Sylar came down from his high he took the time to appreciate the picture Peter made. His hair was a tangled mess, twisted in curls and swoops framing his face. There was semen painting stripes across his face. It was in his nose, clinging to his eyelashes, rolling down his cheeks, and collecting on his lips. And underneath that was the bright smear of red lipstick.

Sylar looked down farther and saw that Peter had quite enjoyed himself. He hadn't come but it was a close thing. From the way Peter was shifting Sylar could tell his knees were beginning to hurt, so he grasped Peter by his upper arms and pulled him onto the mattress.

He took Peter in hand and smirked at the feminine sigh he got in return. Peter gripped weakly at Sylar's arms and shut his eyes. He let his mouth fall open and his head loll back. He didn't bother containing his soft breathy moans and was rewarded with soft kisses against his throat.

When Peter came he bit his lip, unintentionally sucking some of Sylar's come into his mouth. The taller man groaned at the sight but didn't feel up to another round. He pulled Peter up along the mattress and grabbed the box of tissues from the nightstand.

Peter let the warm feeling of his orgasm just wash over him. It wasn't often he got to bask in his afterglow when Sylar was responsible for it. He took a second to appreciate how heavy and loose all of his limbs felt. He was so lost in the feel of his own body he jerked at the feel of something pressing against his face.

When he opened his eyes he was met with the blushing visage of Gabriel. He was poised over Peter holding a tissue in one hand and the box in another.

"Sorry. I just thought you might want to get cleaned up."

Peter smiled and reached out to stroke Gabriel's hip.

"That'd be nice."

He turned his face towards Gabriel and kept still while the watchmaker gently cleaned up the semen and lipstick. When Peter's face was entirely clean he pressed a kiss to Gabriel's retreating palm.

"Can I have a kiss Brei?"

Gabriel's nose crinkled at the thought of kissing Peter before he brushed his teeth but he thought about it. Peter watched as Gabriel cleaned his groin of lipstick, spit, and small amounts of his own semen.

"With tongue?"

Peter smiled and pressed his hand into Gabriel's side.

"Not if you don't want."

Gabriel's nose wrinkled again before he turned and gave Peter a quick chaste kiss. When he pulled away he tried to ignore the lingering taste of salt on his lips.

"Thank you Gabriel."

"You're welcome Peter."

Gabriel fidgeted for a few seconds on the edge of the mattress. It was only five at night and he didn't want to risk falling asleep so soon but Peter's sprawled body looked so inviting. As if sensing Gabriel's minor internal battle, Peter turned to lie on his side, one hand resting under his cheek.

"Let's rest now. If you fall asleep and wake up at a weird time just wake me up too. I'll make it up to you."

Gabriel looked back at Peter's face, still pink in the cheeks from his orgasm and the cleaning. Peter sucked in his lips and let them roll back out slowly and then pressed his nose into his hand.

**Do it!**

_Sylar..._

**Look at that, how can you resist that?! Honestly, if I didn't know for a fact I came from you I'd wonder how the hell I'd gotten into some stranger's head.**

"Don't fight you two. Just...", Peter's other hand reached out across the bed and smoothed over the sheets, "Just come lay with me."

"Okay Peter."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	13. Chapter 13

December 13th

Carol of the Bells

3rd Person POV

Peter entered Gabriel's shop and was greeted with "Carol of the Bells" playing quietly in the background. The nurse slouched against the door and loosened his scarf. The longer he listened the more confused he became. Yes, it was "Carol of the Bells", but it wasn't quite right.

He stepped away from the door and quietly made his way to the backroom. The door was ajar and he was able to peek inside without revealing his presence. And inside that backroom sat Gabriel. He was slouching in his chair, eager face almost pressed against the computer screen. He was on Youtube watching three Muppet characters sing "Carol of the Bells".

The watchmakers face was lit up by the computer's glow, his glasses reflecting the small video he was watching. When the song ended Gabriel quickly pressed the replay button and hummed along with the Muppets on screen. His head swayed slowly from side to side as he hummed and Peter could tell there was a large smile on the man's face.

When the song ended again Gabriel hastily clicked replay. But this time instead of humming he 'meeped' along with Beaker. Peter bit his knuckle to keep from laughing. He wondered if Gabriel had been a fan of the Muppet's growing up or if he'd just been fascinated by the video. He could hear low thoughts coming from Gabriel's direction, most likely Sylar.

He creeped further into the room, not yet willing to give away his position. As he got closer he could make out what Sylar was saying.

**I thought you were over this shit Gabriel!**

Gabriel's thoughts echoed his words, and endless loop of 'mi' noises and 'meeps' all to the tune of "Carol of the Bells".

**You've been watching this video for half and hour Gabriel! Shut it off!**

Peter smiled widely at the thought of Gabriel swaying along to the Muppets for an extended period of time. It was something insanely childish, and so appropriate for Gabriel.

The watchmaker restarted the video and began singing along once more, only this time he was practically shouting it in his head. It only managed to drown Sylar out for a moment though.

**Damn it Peter! Don't just stand there! SAVE ME!**

Gabriel spun around in his chair quickly and promptly fell out of it. He blushed and scrambled up to close out the window. But Peter reached forward to stop him.

"I can show you how to download the song from the site if you like it so much."

Sylar groaned inside of Gabriel's head and then his thoughts retreated from focus. Peter sat down at the computer and began searching for the Youtube downloader. Gabriel stepped behind him shyly and tugged gently at a lock of Peter's hair.

"Beaker is my favorite."

Peter turned towards Gabriel and smiled.

"He's the one that meeps right Brei?"

"Yeah."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	14. Chapter 14

December 14th

Early Morning Surprises

3rd Person POV

When Peter's neighbors heard a loud, vaguely feminine yell coming from the apartment next door they thought nothing of it. They were use to screams and odd noises coming from the nurses apartment. During the first few weeks after Gabriel had moved in all the tenets on Peter's floor contemplated calling the police. But then they caught sight of a cute man with large glasses and a sweater vest struggling to open the door. He was juggling groceries in a canvas bag and a satchel.

After seeing Gabriel blush and fumble to open the door and after receiving a very timid wave they decided it wasn't worth it. Peter's neighbors were eventually able to piece together that _something_ was psychologically wrong with the man, but he was generally timid, shy, and painfully polite.

So Peter's early morning scream when by with nothing but several eye rolls and a small laugh or two at his expense. They figured Gabriel had done something to cause a mess or had surprised him. Peter was not as lucky as his neighbor's had hoped.

The nurse was currently curled into a ball, trying desperately to vanish into the bed. He had awoken to the intensely unpleasant experience of hair being ripped out of him, pubic hair. While Peter had been sleeping in Sylar took it upon himself to wax his boyfriend's pubic hair. He'd only gotten the one strip done and he fully intended to finish once Peter manned up.

"Take it like a man Petrelli!"

"Asshole! Why? Why?"

Peter mumbled 'why' once more into his knees with tears in his eyes. His groin still felt like it was on fire and he knew damn well that once he moved Sylar would finish what he started. Sylar worked his hand in between Peter's drawn up legs and his stomach. He poked once at the tender flesh of Peter's now partially hair free groin.

"Once again I find myself collecting a debt you owe me. I'm not sure you should make this a habit Petrelli, there's only so much you can offer me."

Peter squirmed away from Sylar, trying and failing to guard his pubic hair without scratching it across the sheets.

"What did I do now?"

"You downloaded that damn song for Gabriel. Do you know how annoying that song is? Do you have any idea how annoying the Muppets are?"

Before Peter could reply Sylar used telekinesis to flip him over. He made sure Peter was spread eagle across the mattress before reaching over to pick up the hot wax and cloth strips. He sat on Peter's thighs and applied a heavy layer of wax to the nurses groin. He pushed the cloth strip down, making sure to properly smooth out all the edges before teasingly running a finger over the edge of it.

"How much are you going to yank out Sylar?"

Sylar ripped away the strip quickly, enjoying the way Peter's hips lurched and his face cringed.

"I'm not even leaving a landing strip baby."

Peter thunk his head against the pillow and dug his fingers into the sheets. Sylar yanked out another patch of hair and dug his fingers into the pink flesh. He pressed harder for a moment, enough to make Peter's breath catch, before he let up and stoked soothingly across the irritated skin. He reveled in the feel of how soft it was, obviously rubbed smooth by years of wearing denim with no underwear.

Peter hummed in appreciation and didn't fight the rest of the waxing. When it was all over he looked down and wrinkled his nose at the look.

"It's all...pink..."

Sylar leaned across Peter to put the wax back on the end table.

"That'll go away later. And then come back a little while after that."

Peter frowned and pressed his fingers into his stomach just above the pink skin.  
"Why would it come back?"

Sylar turned to give Peter a blank stare.

Oh...

The nurse poked once at his newly waxed groin before flopping back against the bed.

"Hand me the lotion."

Sylar called telekineticly for a nearby bottle of lotion, allowing it to thunk against the side of Peter's head. The nurse huffed but took it without comment. He let a few drops of lotion splash against his groin. The lotion was a very soothing cool against his irritated skin. He worked his fingers into the lotion trying to sooth away the hurt.

"Don't be such a baby Petrelli, I just waxed you."

Peter fixed Sylar with a glare and threw the lotion at him. But it was deflected and Sylar was unimpressed.

"You want me to wax your chest hair while you sleep?"

"You wouldn't **dare** Petrelli."

"That's what you think."

Peter turned his attention back to his groin and inspected his new hairless look.

Great, this is going to be like puberty all over again. I'll have ridiculously short crotch fuzz for weeks.

Peter glared at Sylar again from under his lashes. Sylar leaned away from Peter, sensing that now was not the time to gloat. He got up slowly from the bed and walked backwards out of the room towards the kitchen. Peter watched him the whole time, a small frown marring his lips.

**We've made him all bitchy.**

_We? __We__?! No! __You__ were the one who decided that yanking hair forcibly from his naughty bits was a good idea!_

**Well I wouldn't have done that if you hadn't downloaded that stupid song.**

_Don't you make this my fault! And don't sit on there naked! We __eat__ there!_

Sylar huffed and moved away from the table he had been about to sit on.

**We've also fucked there.**

Sylar was blessed with several minutes of mental silence. Gabriel had absolutely nothing to say to that and was quietly thinking about how to disinfect the table without drawing too much attention from Peter.

Sylar paced around the living room and kitchen for nearly an hour, not willing to sit and start Gabriel into another sanitation fit. He was also unwilling to venture back into the bedroom. Peter had closed the door some time ago and so he was unable to peek in and see how mad the nurse was.

Although Sylar wasn't afraid of Peter ability wise, he was certainly afraid of what Peter could do to him emotionally. He liked having a home. He liked having someone waiting for him, needing him, and wanting him. And he liked his sex life too. He certainly wasn't willing to jeopardize good sex because of a prank. All men had limits and his were all centered around Peter Petrelli's hips.

**If he isn't out in five minutes I am sitting our bare ass on the carpet.**

_But Sylaaaar!_

**Exactly, our butt is making contact in five.**

_Can't you go shower or something...or try peeking in on Peter?_

**No way in hell am I going to peek at Mrs. Priss in there. He'll throw stuff at me and bitch about his hairlessness. I don't even know why it's such a big deal. It's not like he has a happy trail or chest hair.**

_You should have asked if you wanted him to shave down there. What you did was impolite._

**I didn't want him to shave. Waxing lasts longer.**

The two of them drifted into mental silence and true to his word, five minutes later Sylar was sitting cross-legged on the carpet. Gabriel let out a small mental wail but knew better than to complain. Their feet were starting to get sore. Sylar sat quietly for all of two minutes before Peter opened the bedroom door, stark naked.

_Two minutes! Our carpet..._

Peter smiled softly at Gabriel's distraught comment. He then walked straight past Sylar to the bathroom. Sylar noted that Peter's groin was now rid of the pinkish tone and back to a nice pale white. Forgetting his previous sentiment not to piss off Peter he whistled lowly at the image the nurse made. That image was only tarnished slightly as he heard the nurse start to pee.

"I forgive you Sylar."

Sylar got up and headed towards the bathroom. He leaned against the door and watched the nurse wash his hands and then brush his teeth.

"What took you so long to forgive me?"

Peter stopped brushing for a moment to stare at Sylar.

"Other than the fact that you waxed my privates against my will?"

Sylar nodded, obviously not seeing the problem with the scenario.

"I was sleeping."

Sylar's jaw dropped open. He had a protest on his tongue but Gabriel pushed himself to the front and rushed to Peter's side. He wound his arms tightly around Peter's middle and slid to his knees. He pressed his face tightly into Peter's side and kissed it lightly.

"I'm sorry about Sylar."

Peter used his free hand to ruffle Gabriel's hair and spit toothpaste into the sink.

"It's okay. How about I let you play with it first, just for revenge purposes."

Gabriel bit his lip and looked down at what Peter was offering.

"Just think of how much easier cleanup will be."

Gabriel was sold.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	15. Chapter 15

December 15th

Reminders

3rd Person POV

In the recent months Gabriel had taken to integrating himself in society. Ever since Samson had sold him he'd begun distancing himself from everyone but his parents. Then Martin left and all Gabriel had was his mother, his controlling, suffocating mother.

He'd maintained an eight o'clock curfew even through high school. It wasn't until he was nineteen that he finally broke free of it and began doing things outside the home on his own. And at that point hope was seemingly lost. He had no desire for the sudden freedom presented to him. Being the weird religious kid had left him with no friends. Running his father's shop alone had left him no coworkers. And because of his introverted, skittish personality he had no real ability to search for new friends.

Ever since Chandra had walked into his shop his life had been turned upside down. Gabriel had been forced to let Sylar move to the front of his mind. And then Sylar didn't want to let go. And to be honest, even though Gabriel didn't agree with what Sylar had done, he didn't feel he would do much better. So for quite a while Gabriel made the effort to venture out and smile at cashiers and chat with waitresses, and he even managed to chat with someone on the subway. He was proud of those interactions but they were interactions with people who weren't like him, people who were...not inconsequential, but not nearly as important as those in his own community.

And while the evolved human community at large still wanted nothing to do with him, Claire and Micah were more than willing to speak with him. Micah sent Gabriel emails daily and called at least twice a week to speak with the watchmaker and Sylar. Micah felt an odd connection with Gabriel and Sylar because of his mothers condition.

Claire made the effort originally because Peter had asked her to. Their first meeting had been awkward. They drank tea and stared at each other's shoulders. Claire had put her teacup on the table and stood to leave when she heard Gabriel speak. He whispered sorry and started to cry. Claire decided that made him worth forgiveness.

So now Gabriel was standing awkwardly outside of his shop, waiting for Claire to come meet him. They planned to catch a quick lunch. He was wrapped tightly in a dorky Christmas sweater. There was a snowman wearing a bow tie stitched onto it's front. When he'd picked it out Sylar had told him off but the thought only made Gabriel want to snuggle in further.

He spotted Claire walking his way, a large grin on her face.

"Gabriel! Gabriel come here!"

Gabriel waved tentatively back at her and crossed the street to meet her.

"Hello Claire."

Claire hooked her arm around Gabriels and hurried him along the sidewalk.

_Where do you think she's taking us?_

**Someplace that serves pizza.**

_Pizza?_

**She's still a teenager Gabriel.**

"Hm."

Claire tugged on Gabriel's sweater to get his attention.

"Hm what mister?"

"Just talking with Sylar."

Claire gave a tense nod and focused back on the sidewalk.

"I have something to ask you Gabriel. It can wait until we get to the restaurant, but I want an honest answer. I think you owe me at least that."

Gabriel gave no reply. He would answer her and he knew that she would be fair in her questioning, but he couldn't help the sudden feeling of anxiety that washed over him. He was worried that she would ask him something he didn't have the answer to, or something he wished he didn't know the answer to.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

They ended up at a pizza place. It was a small traditional Italian restaurant. Claire had ordered them a large banana pepper pizza to share.

"So Gabriel..."

"Claire..."

Gabriel pulled a napkin from its dispenser and twisted into little knots.

"Gabriel I just wanted to know...if...Okay listen, I know you really love Peter."

Gabriel's face flooded with blood at the comment.

"I know you love him. I can see that. But I was wondering if-"

"Sylar loves him too. It-It's not just me, we both love him. We love him more than anything or anyone else."

The pizza arrived, the waitress was a young girl, probably only sixteen. She smirked at the sight of Gabriel's ridiculous sweater but made no comment. Claire glared at her anyways. They ate in relative silence, keeping talk small and trivial. But soon they were both full and they were left with only each other to distract themselves.

"That wasn't the question I wanted to ask. It was a good question. I'm glad that Sylar likes Peter too, but that wasn't what I wanted to know."

Gabriel wet a napkin and began cleaning his hands the best he could, resolutely trying not to look at Claire.

"Gabriel...Gabriel, please look at me while I ask."

Gabriel held his breath and looked at Claire.

"Do you and Peter...I mean I know you guys live together and that you two have sex but...have you two ever thought of having children?"

Gabriel's hands were twisting tight into the bottom of his sweater. His lip was trembling and he felt tears fighting to spill free.

He had no answer for her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Peter came home he found Gabriel curled up on the couch, crying into a bowl of raspberry sherbert. He threw his bag aside and rushed to Gabriel. The watchmaker sniffled lightly into Peter's arms.

"What's the matter Brei?"

_I talked with Claire today._

"Was...was she mean?"

"No."

The word was mangled with the slur of phlem and anguish.

_She's so nice to me. No, she just asked a question..._

"Something that you didn't want to answer."

_Something that I don't want to think about._

Peter relaxed back into the couch, bringing Gabriel with him. They sat there quietly for a few minutes, the only sound was Gabriel's light sniffling.

_She asked if we wanted kids._

"I wouldn't mind having kids someday. We could adopt Brei, it's not that big of a deal. Or I could ask someone to be a surrogate for us."

_I don't deserve children. I don't deserve to spawn. And I'm sure I wouldn't make a decent father for anyone. I can't even take care of myself properly._

Peter squeezed Gabriel once in reassurance and nuzzled his hair with his nose.

"Gabriel, do you want kids?"

_I don't __deserve__ children!_

"I didn't ask about you whether or not you felt like you deserved them. I asked what you wanted."

Gabriel pulled away from Peter and slumped towards the bedroom. Peter sat quietly on the couch and closed his eyes.

What do I say?

Gabriel went through the rest of the day in a slump. Peter couldn't even hear Sylar, there was just mental static. The watchmaker had watery eyes and down turned lips the rest of the day. His hair hung limply in his face and his glasses were abandoned on top of the television. Peter had to beg him to eat, practically had to force feed him.

When Gabriel ran himself a bath instead of his usual shower Peter had had enough. He kissed Gabriel once and whispered a quiet 'I'll be back' against his lips before running out of the apartment.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Gabriel was just pulling on his sweatpants when he heard Peter re-enter the apartment. His footsteps were accompanied by a light series of padding. When he turned towards the door he saw a medium sized dog, black and gray. Gabriel gasped when the dog jumped up to lick at his stomach.

"I thought we could start with a dog first. See where this takes us."

Peter was leaning against the doorway of their bedroom, holding a leash and smiling.

"Can we name him Noah?"

"After the Bible story Brei?"

Gabriel shook his head and leaned down to pet the dog.

"No, after Bennet. As a reminder."

"Okay, Noah it is."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	16. Chapter 16

December 16th

Concessions

3rd Person POV

Peter awoke to the feel of a heavy tongue working its way through his fingers. He jerked his arm away, momentarily confused. Peter's jerk woke Gabriel and the watchmaker leaned across Peter to smile tentativly down at Noah.

"Did you buy food for him too?"

Peter nodded and relaxed back against the bed. Gabriel scrambled up and rushed into the kitchen. Sitting against the pantry was a small mound of dog supplies. Gabriel unearthed the food and water bowl and then filled each.

He stood back nervously, in front of the fridge, and watched Noah eat. He'd never had a dog before. Sylar had once mentioned him having a bird but he couldn't remember it. The thought of a dog usually made him cringe. They drooled, shed, chewed, vomited, and the owner was responsible for actually picking up the poop. Those were all very unsanitary activities.

But Gabriel knew he had to make an effort. Children were messy little things and if Gabriel hoped to cross that bridge some day he'd have to make concessions at some point. So the watchmaker twisted his hands together and restrained himself from tidying up as slober and flecks of dog food splattered onto the floor. Shortly after water sloshed over the side of its container and it flowed into the grout of the linoleum.

Gabriel's breath picked up but he kept his place in front of the fridge. He hoped that forcing himself to watch the mess unfold, and doing nothing about it during, would help desensitize him.

**Don't give us a heart attack. It'll all come up.**

_I know, I know its just..._

**Messy.**

_Messy._

Noah finished his meal and licked his lips in appreciation before padding closer to Gabriel. The watchmaker let his hands fall to his sides and tried to look inviting. Noah sniffed at Gabriel's legs and whined softly before sitting at his feet. Noah leaned forward to rest his head on his front paws and whined again.

_Does he not like me?_

**He needs to piss.**

_Oh...but he may need to...as well..._

**Maybe.**

Gabriel smoothed out his shirt and twisted his fingers together. He looked back at the leash hanging next to the door and then back at Noah.

"Peteeerrrr!"

The call came out desperate and vaguely whiny. Peter smiled against his pillow and slowly rose onto his hands and knees. He stretched forward like a cat before getting out of bed and heading towards the kitchen. He found Gabriel biting his lip and looking worriedly at Noah.

"He needs to be taken out...but I...I don't think I can..."

Peter hugged Gabriel's middle before going to get the leash. Noah padded eagerly over to Peter and licked the nurse sloppily on the hand while getting his collar fastened.

"It's okay Brei. I figured this would be a problem. We'll work you up to it."

Gabriel nodded and smiled to Peter before looking quickly over at the mess Noah had caused.

"You can clean it up if you want Brei. I'll be back soon."

Gabriel rushed forward to give Peter a quick kiss on the cheek before rushing to the cabinet to get his cleaning supplies. Once the nurse was outside Gabriel pulled on his gloves and began mopping up the spilled water and then scrubbing away the gooey mess of dog food.

He finished cleaning a few minutes before Peter and Noah returned. He was in the process of pulling on a button up shirt when he felt the light pressure of Peter's slim fingers against his back. The nurse had reached up under the back of his shirt and was tracing his fingers up the curve of Gabriel's spine.

"Don't get dressed yet."

Gabriel hesitated at his bottom button and looked over his shoulder.

"But I'll be late for work."

Peter moved his finger's to Gabriel's front and locked them together over Gabriel's navel. He pressed himself closer to the watchmaker and rested his head on his shoulder.

"But you're your own boss. You can open a little late today."

Gabriel sighed and brought his own hands up to cover Peter's. Peter smiled against the crook of Gabriel's neck and placed a soft kiss there. He pressed the tip of his nose into the spot he kissed then ran it down the length of Gabriel's shoulder. When he reached the prominent curve of Gabriel's shoulder he moved back along the same path, this time using kisses to pave the way. Little by little the tension left Gabriel's frame and he relaxed back against Peter.

"I guess I can open it late today. Concessions and all that..."

"Hmmmm."

Peter pulled away from Gabriel and nudged his hip, encouraging him to turn around. Once they were face to face Peter leaned forward to press a kiss in the center of Gabriel's chest. He squeezed at the watchmaker's hips once before running his hands up to his armpits and then back over Gabriel's shoulder blades. Peter kissed a trail up from Gabriel's chest to his neck, and then to the underside of his chin.

Peter stood on his toes so he could take Gabriel's lower lip into his mouth and tug. He suckled on that lip for a few seconds and then released it, licking at it lewdly when Gabriel smiled shyly. The watchmaker brought his hands forward to rest on Peter's lower back. He pressed his fingers into the hollow of Peter's spine and leaned forward to kiss the tip of Peter's nose.

"Can I ride you?"

"Ooh, being forward today aren't we."

Gabriel gasped lightly and pulled back from Peter. He blushed heavily and looked away.

"I-I just thought-"

Peter smiled and put his hands up in a disarming gesture.

"Shh, it's okay. I was just teasing you Brei. I like when you're forward."

Gabriel pulled back from Peter's questing hand and looked to the floor.

"Does that mean you don't like how I act usually?"

"No! No, Brei...", Peter pulled Gabriel close and kissed his cheek, "Brei, Gabriel, I like you. No, I love you no matter how you act. I love you when you're forward, I love you when you're shy, I even love you when you're Sylar. People go through moods Brei. God knows I do."

Gabriel smiles nervously and leans further into Peter's embrace.

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain."

"I'll make a note of it."

Gabriel laughed and let Peter pull him to the bed. He pushed the watchmaker to lie back and then removed his own clothes before reaching forward to undo Gabriel's pants and drag them down. Peter took the time to fold all the clothes and set them aside before crawling onto the mattress above Gabriel.

_I still want..._

"Whatever you want Brei. Whatever you want."

Peter sat back against Gabriel's groin and began rolling his hips. He looked haughtily down at Gabriel and ran his hands all across his own body and Gabriel's chest. When Gabriel began rolling his head back against the pillow and moaning Peter leaned down and rolled away, pulling Gabriel over top of him.

"Condom Peter."

"I was getting to it. I haven't even prepped you yet Brei."

Peter reached into the side table to pull out a bottle of lube and a condom. He slicked his fingers thoroughly and pressed a single finger to Gabriel's entrance. When Gabriel nodded in consent he pushed forward and then waited out the initial panic. After a few deep breaths Gabriel relaxed and Peter pushed forward.

Peter kept his eyes on Gabriel's face, enjoying the way his glasses fogged and slid forward, the way his cheeks flushed with blood, and the way Gabriel's lips pushed out to reveal perfectly straight white teeth.

When Gabriel was ready Peter pulled away and wiped his hands on a tissue before opening the condom and rolling it over himself. He relaxed back before cursing lightly and pulling out the lube once more to ready the condom. Peter ran his hands lightly up Gabriel's sides and thumbed gently at his nipples.

Gabriel spread his knees a bit farther and dug his toes into the sheets. He positioned himself over Peter and slid down slowly. Gabriel exhaled slowly and placed his palms flat against Peter's nipples and began gently rolling his hips back and forth.

Peter let his hands drop back to the bed and twisted his fingers into the sheets. Gabriel braced himself more steadily against Peter's chest and began lifting himself up and down slowly. Gabriel let his chin drop to his chest and panted softly at his own motions.

When Peter started raising up to meet him Gabriel began letting out short high pitched keens. Gabriel kept the pace slow but let his rhythm falter as Peter and gravity worked to press them harder and harder into each other. Gabriel's hands slid further apart; Peter's nipples were blushing an abused red in between the gaps of Gabriel's thumbs and fingers.

Peter reached forward to drag his fingers lightly across the length of Gabriel's erection. His pointer finger pressed lightly into the slit before moving back down to trace the prominent veins. Gabriel let out a series of breathy moans and feminine squeaks in return.

Peter raised his knees up and moved his legs farther apart. Gabriel moved his hands back to grip Peter's thighs. He leaned back to give himself a better angle and tossed his head back. Peter watched as Gabriel's glasses slid crookedly over his face, higher up on one side than the other.

"Brei...Brei...so good..."

Gabriel bit his lip and squeezed Peter's knees tightly. Peter reached forward to pull gently at Gabriel's erection, flicking his thumb against the head.

Gabriel came with a low whine and fell back against the mattress, his knees still bent and tucked against Peter's hips. The nurse surged upwards a few more times and let the feeling of Gabriel's muscle spasms milk him into orgasm.

When Peter was able to come down from his high he raised himself up, arms braced behind him, and looked down at Gabriel.

"Bendy."

Peter admired the ease at which Gabriel took the position, his feet tucked back by his elbows and his knees against Peter's hips. Gabriel's head was hanging limply over the edge of the bed, his neck drawn taught. He smiled at the implications of what this flexibility could mean for their sexual future, but frowned when he realized Gabriel wasn't fussing over the mess.

"Brei? Are you okay?"

Gabriel reached up to press his glasses properly back against his nose and eyes.

"Noah was watching."

Peter looked up and spotted Noah sitting in the doorway.

"So?"

"Noah caught us having sex."

Peter smiled and flopped back against the bed.

"He's not a person Brei, I don't think he cares."

Gabriel raised his head up to glare at Peter.

"You don't know that. We could have scarred him mentally. What will he think of us?"

**That we look sexy as hell naked.**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	17. Chapter 17

December 17th

Neglected

3rd Person POV

Sylar pushed Peter roughly towards the bed and telekenetickly slid Noah away from the bedroom door before slamming it. Peter stood tall and resolute as Sylar advanced on him. The reformed killer had a predatory gleam in his eye and was stalking slowly towards Peter.

"I've been feeling...neglected."

Sylar smirked after his admission and brought himself flush against Peter. When he spoke next his lips skimmed over the top of Peter's head, his breath ruffling the hair there.

"Now why would I feel that way Peter?"

Peter sighed and brought his hands up to grip Sylar's shoulders. The taller man caught both wrists tightly before they made it to their destination.

******Answer the question Petrelli.**

Peter twisted his wrists, testing the grip. It was tight, tight enough to leave bruises on a normal person.

"I suppose it's because I've been pretty intimate with Brei lately and with you..."

******With me it's all a rushed fuck and Brei's aftercare.**

"Something like that."

Sylar pushed Peter away from himself. The force sent Peter stumbling back, the backs of his knees hitting the bed.

"Strip and make yourself pretty for me Petrelli."

Peter toyed with the button of his pants and tossed his hair back.

"I thought you said I was always pretty."

******Now Petrelli!**

"Okay, okay..."

Peter sat back against the bed and pulled off his pants and then threw his shirt to the other side of the room. He wondered briefly if he should leave his socks, Sylar had quite an affection for those lately, but he removed them anyways.

Peter braced his arms behind himself and stretched out his legs. His toes curled in and just skimmed the floor out in front of him, as far as his legs would stretch. He wrinkled his nose and then wiggled his hips for good measure before jumping up and making his way to the side table. He sifted through several bottles and tubes of lube before pulling out a bottle of unopened cranberry scented lube.

"Cranberry Sylar?"

Sylar shrugged and motioned for Peter to get on the bed.

"It was on sale."

Peter crawled onto the bed, posing in the center of it. He pushed his ass high up into the air and gave it a little wiggle, then dropped down to press his upper chest and face into the bed and moved his hands back to grip his own butt. The lube rolled forward and knocked against his chest.

Sylar moved forward and sat on his knees on the floor at the base of the bed. He crossed his arms over the bed spread and rested his chin there. He let his back relaxed and let his eyes roam across Peter's exposed backside.

"Very nice."

Peter smiled into the pillow at the compliment and reached under himself to grasp the lube before flicking it open. Sylar hummed in anticipation and spread his knees farther apart on the floor. Peter managed to pour the lube onto his fingers without spilling too much on the bedspread and then set to work.

He pressed one hand to the pillow by his face as he brushed his pointer finger over his entrance. He circled himself slowly, building his own anticipation with shallow teasing pushes before thrusting harshly inside himself. Peter pressed a knuckle into his mouth and and worked his teeth and lips around it gently, creating a puddle of drool on his pillow. A few stay locks of hair fell into his eyes and over his pinkened cheeks.

Sylar's breathing deepened at the sight of Peter.

******Mmm, so...debauched. I like it.**

Peter made let out a happy hum around his knuckle and then nudged another finger inside of himself. When he say Sylar stand he began working himself faster, thinking the other man was about to enter him.

Instead Sylar sucked on his finger briefly before roughly jamming it into Peter along with the nurses own fingers. A small pained yelp escaped around Peter's knuckle. Sylar grinned and grabbed harshly at Peter's left buttock with his free hand and began worming his finger in between the seam of Peter's middle and pointer finger. His nail scratched painfully against Peter's inside, allowing a small trickle of blood to join the spit and lube.

Peter's mouth fell open in a silent scream and his knuckle fell from his lips. It was still curled tensely by his mouth, still shiny with spit, and with every forceful thrust forward of Sylar's finger it bumped and pulled down Peter's lower lip.

Sylar pulled his finger free and smirked while Peter tried to push his hips back, questing the finger again.

"Like that Petrelli?"

"Mmmm."

"Say it Petrelli!"

The demand was accompanied by a harsh squeeze to his left buttock and a wet finger prying at his entrance.

"F-ffeels gooood."

Peter's hips jerked forward once, quickly. The movement was tense and involuntary and Sylar loved it.

"Well if it feels that good..."

Sylar roughly shoved two fingers into Peter, along side the nurses own fingers. Peter cried out at the feeling of the wet finger retaking him and the dry one that accompanied it. More blood seeped out of Peter. His mind was going fuzzy with the combination of the slick blood and lube, the tingling of the cellular regeneration, and the mounting pleasure. Peter could practically feel Sylar's smirk burning into his ass. He moved his hand away from his face to twist into the sheets next to the pillow and pulled his fingers free from himself.

He pushed himself up onto all fours and pressed his ass, still full, against Sylar.

"Just take me."

Sylar pulled his hand free quickly, making sure to scratch on his retreat. He then grabbed tightly at the back of Peter's neck and forced his face back to the pillow. With one hand clamped firmly on Peter's neck, he used his other to guide himself into Peter.

The entry was rough and dry. Peter screamed against his pillow, trying to muffle himself. But soon that pain faded and Peter was left with an overwhelming cool tingling sensation, followed by a sudden rush of built up pleasure.

He laughed breathily into the pillow and rocked his hips back to meet Sylar's. The taller man let out a deep groan and picked up his pace. The healing had caused small tremors all throughout Peter's rectum; it was like little rippling squeezes.

Sylar's free hand reached around Peter and squeezed harshly at the base of his erection. The other hand pressed Peter's neck further down into the mattress. Sylar's breathing became harsher as he moved his hips faster. Peter could only hear the rushing of his own blood and the scratching of his face against the pillow. Sylar could hear it all, the repetitive smack of his hips against Peter's ass, the small whines coming from Peter, the creaking of the bed, and his own harsh breathing.

Peter let his knees slide farther apart and tried in vain to wriggle his hips and gain friction against Sylar's harsh grip. Sylar tossed his head back and yanked his hand up across Peter's erection, all while maintaining his harsh grip. He pressed his pointer finger and thumb tightly around the head and released Peter's neck to grab his hip.

"Stay...stay down...o-or you don't...you don't come."

Peter moaned helplessly into his pillow. He was desperate for release and willing to do whatever Sylar wanted to get it.

"Let me...l-let meeeee...pl...wanna come..."

Sylar pressed his fingers together more firmly, enjoying the pained sounds falling from Peter's lips. He let go of Peter's erection completely and moved his left hand back to tease at the seam of Peter's ass. Peter gasped once he realized what Sylar wanted and his initial thought was to scramble away. But at the warning squeeze to his hip he relaxed. And then Sylar jammed two fingers into Peter alongside himself.

Both of them screamed at the feeling, Peter in momentary pain, and Sylar in absolute pleasure. Sylar crooked his fingers to curl at the sides of his dick and slowed his pace to enjoy the new feeling.

Peter was whining softly into his pillow and rolling his hips back softly against Sylar's pelvis. His thighs were trembling in an effort to keep himself up and the muscles in his neck were screaming for relief.

"Say it!"

Peter turned his head to the side and began whispering 'Sylar' in a constant mantra. When Sylar let go of his hip to jerk him off the name came out louder and more desperate. Sylar slid his hand back to press his thumb harshly into Peter's perenium.

Peter came with a scream, his semen painting white lines all across his chest and the sheets. The feel of Peter's inner muscles spasming and clenching tight around his fingers and dick left Sylar gasping. With a few more harsh thrusts Sylar pulled Peter onto his knees and tight against his chest. He held Peter's ass firmly into the cradle of his hips and came. Peter let his head fall back against Sylar's shoulder, his mouth slack with drool dripping down onto his chin.

Sylar continued to rock his hips up into Peter well after his orgasm. When Peter's trembling ceased Sylar lifted the nurse off of him and threw him down onto the mattress before pressing his hands on Peter's ass and pressing down.

Sylar leaned down and pulled Peter's ass apart to view the nurse's swollen, leaking entrance. He used his thumbs to pull the flesh farther apart and the motion caused a small wink. A small trail of semen oozed out of Peter and down the seam of his ass.

Peter moaned softly and tried to press his ass up against Sylar's face.

"Are you gonna eat it?"

Sylar didn't answer. He puckered his lips and pressed a kiss onto Peter's entrance and then let his tongue flick inside. He licked a few more times, each lick bringing out a dollop of semen for him to eat. But before it was all gone Sylar leaned back and pulled the forgotten lube off the floor.

Sylar pressed a finger into Peter, hooked it down and pulled. Peter gasped at the questing finger, unsure if he should wiggle away or wiggle into it.

******Stay down.**

Peter nodded into his pillow and tried not to move when he felt the light whispery touches of telekinesis running over his ass. His heart rate picked up when he felt those touches reach into his entrance and begin to widen. Peter twisted his hands into the sheets and closed his eyes tight, only to gasp and fling them open in the following seconds.

Sylar had uncapped the lube and was pouring it straight into him. Peter whined at the cold, gummy feel of it pooling on his insides. When the entire bottle was empty Sylar completely released his hold on Peter and palmed his ass affectionately once before climbing off the bed.

"Keep it in."

"How long."

Sylar ignored the question and pulled on some pants.

"Sylar, how long?"

Still no answer. Peter huffed and took care to clench himself tight as he sat up.

"Sylar! How long am I suppose to keep it in?"

But Sylar had already left the room.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	18. Chapter 18

December 18th

Intimacy

3rd Person POV

Peter was leaning against the railing of his fire escape. He was wrapped tightly in a black cloth jacket and had a large striped scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and over the bottom half of his face. When a particularly large gust of wind blew past he scrunched up his eyes and buried his nose further into his scarf.

___You could catch a cold._

Peter smiled into his scarf and leaned back against Gabriel, who had just stepped onto the fire escape.

"I dunn fink we can." Peter's response had been muffled and distorted by his scarf.

"Enunciate Peter."

Peter tried to glare at Gabriel from over his shoulder, but the angle was all wrong. The two of them snuggled together until Peter couldn't feel his fingertips anymore. Peter put his palms together and blew warm breath into them. Then Gabriel placed his hands over Peter's and pulled them close to his own mouth. He huffed hot breath onto their hands before kissing gently on Peter's fingertips.

"You fingers are all frosty."

Peter shook his head side to side, trying to loosen his scarf without pulling his hands away from Gabriel. After thirty seconds of failed shaking Peter felt a whispery trendle of telekinesis pulling his scarf free.

"Thanks Brei."

"No problem Peter."

Gabriel pulled away and rubbed his hands over his ears. He looked guiltily off to the side and sighed heavily.

"Is Sylar still mad at me Brei? It's not your fault if he is. I promise."

Gabriel shook his head and leaned forward to press his forehead against Peter's still cold shoulder.

_He feels lonely. I've always been lonely, but Sylar...for such a long time it was like he wasn't even __there__. It makes him sad._

Peter nodded, his rough stuble catching on Gabriel's clean shaven face. The nurse wrapped his arms around the taller man and pulled him close. The stood still for a long while, just listening to each other breathe. Noah yawned lightly in the background and then buried his face in his paws.

Peter ran pulled one hand back to rest on Gabriel's upper arm and rubbed it softly with his thumb. He nudged Gabriel lightly until the taller man raised his head and stood straight.

"Can I have some intimate time with Sylar?"

Gabriel smiled and pulled away.

"Of course Peter."

Gabriel's nose scrunched slightly and Peter caught a loud burst of mental static. Sylar was putting up a fight.

Probably sulking because he's pissed at me.

When the static suddenly stopped all Peter could see was Gabriel's body. There was no bashfulness to indicate Gabriel was still in the forefront, but no gleam or anger to suggest Sylar was either. It looked as if all consciousness had left the watchmaker.

Oh no...what's happened?

Peter rushed forward and grabbed Gabriel tightly by his arms. He shook slightly the taller man and then tried to check his pupils. As Peter pulled his hand away he saw a quick, agitated blink out of the corner of his eye.

Son of a bitch...

Peter quickly figured out that Sylar was indeed in the forefront and was playing him. Obviously Sylar intended on snubbing Peter a bit longer. So the nurse made a big show of still being panicked. He rushed into the bedroom and riffled through the closet, making it seem like he was looking for his medical supplies. Really he was searching for a length of soft velvety rope. Peter had discovered it one day in a pile of Sylar's old things and had yet to put it to use.

When he found it he wound it tightly in his hands and rushed back out to Sylar. The taller mans back was to him; it was his only advantage. He didn't want to risk using more powers than necessary, lest Sylar become more angry. The reformed killer could very easily destroy his apartment in a fit of sullen rage.

Peter quickly reached up and over to fit the rope tight against Sylar's neck. He yanked backwards until Sylar's head rested against the side of his own.

"I want to play nice tonight. I'm not asking you to change who you are, wouldn't have it. I just want a little solidarity from you for a few hours. You want to be intimate with me like I am with Brei, you're going to have to play nice too."

Sylar's teeth were bared and his fingers were clutching tightly to the rope, but he hadn't tried to escape. He wanted intimacy, he really did. He just didn't think he had the capability to keep up with it. Peter tugged once on the rope and showed no signs of loosening his grip.

"Fine!"

Peter smiled and pulled the ends of the rope back to tie a loop knot. He formed something like a noose and tugged on it once, testing Sylar's reaction.

******Kinky, but not intimate.**

"Just a precaution Sylar."

Peter used the length of rope to walk Sylar further into the living room. He came around to the front of the couch and flopped back lazily, tugging on the rope to make Sylar do the same. Peter leaned in close to Sylar and pulled the rope back behind the other man's head. He pulled his arm back as far as it would go, forcing Sylar to lean sideways, his elbow resting on the armrest. When Peter saw that Sylar was willing to stay put he leaned in as well, resting his head in the crook between Sylar's chest and his underarm. He brought his legs up and bent his knees so that his toes just pressed against the armrest.

"What are we doing Petrelli?"

"You should call me Peter when we're being intimate."

Sylar made a 'tch' noise and wriggled to get more comfortable on the couch.

******Don't say intimate like that.**

"Like what?"

"Like a '50's house wife...or a teacher."

Peter just raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in mocking acknowledgment before grabbing the remote off of the coffee table. He whistled for Noah, who came padding over and leapt onto the couch at Peter's feet.

"Gabriel won't like that."

"I'm not spending my evening with Gabriel."

Peter clicked on the television and turned it to one of the many stations playing holiday specials. He snuggled closer to Sylar and grinned when he felt the other mans hand come down tentatively on his arm from over the couch.

Noah circled Peter's feet and legs once before deciding to lie alongside Peter and the back of the couch, his muzzle resting on on of the nurses ankles.

"A Christmas Story" was starting.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	19. Chapter 19

December 19th

Tinsel

3rd Person POV

When Gabriel came home there was a tree in the corner of the living room. It was a six foot spruce, covered in tinsel. Noah was resting quietly under the tree, also covered in tinsel but Gabriel figured that was an accident rather than deliberate. Gabriel stood in shock at the sight; his shoulder bag slid to the floor with a thump. There was tinsel and nettles everywhere. Unused lights were strewn across the floor and boxes upon boxes of half opened ornaments were stacked haphazzardly everywhere.

"Peter..."

At his name, the nurse poked his head out from behind the tree. Garlin hung around his neck like a shiney boa. When Peter walked around the tree he used his foot to push a box of ornaments along with him.

"I bought us a tree Brei. Smells like Christmas now doesn't it?"

Peter smiled brightly and turned to admire the tree, which was almost entirely silver with tinsel.

"It's so..."

"Beautiful, right Brei?"

"I was going to say messy but..."

Peter frowned slightly and shook his head. He swaggered up to Gabriel and used the end of his garlin to tickle the watchmaker's nose. Gabriel batted him away and frowned at the tree. Peter grabbed onto Gabriel's face, palms open against the taller man's cheeks, and pulled his face down so that their foreheads touched.

"It's Christmas tradition. Didn't you have a tree?"

Gabriel sighed against Peter's face and pushed out his bottom lip. Peter tilted his head forward to suck it into his mouth. He gave it a light nibble then pulled away completely so Gabriel could straighten up.

"We never had a tree. Dad didn't like the smell and...Christmas was never about presents for us. To mom, Christmas was trekking through three feet of snow at 11:30 so we could make it to Midnight Mass on time."

I figured as much.

Peter grabbed Gabriel's hand lightly and tugged him toward the tree. As Gabriel got closer he noticed that Peter had strung lights up before he began the tinsel onslaut. The bulbs were white and the cord was green. Gabriel investigated a little while longer and decided that they weren't blinking lights.

___I always imagined you'd have large colored bulbs..._

"I figured those would be easier on your eyes."

Peter bent over another box of ornaments and dug through its contents, looking for the star. Gabriel eyed his butt briefly before shaking his head and circling the tree. After his first pass around Noah got up and began following him, happily wagging his tail and butting his nose against Gabrie's legs. The watchmaker patted his head hesitantly then resumed his path around the tree. He saw nettles on the floor, as well as crumpled newspaper and packing peanuts. The lights were draped unevenly through the branches and some places had far more tinsel than others.

While Gabriel was fretting at the mess the tree had caused Peter had unearthed the star. It was shaped like a bouquet of shimmery flower-like stalks. It was fuschia and unconventional, entirely un-Christmasy. And Peter had bought it to spite his father on his eighteenth Christmas. His mother had found it amusing. She stopped to smile at it every day until the tree had been taken down. His father tried to remove it at least twice a day and had never succeeded. After that Peter couldn't bring himself to part with it.

Peter laid it aside and picked up a box of matching fuschia ball and icicle ornaments. He stepped in front of Gabriel and handed him the box. He got down on one knee, bowed his head, and held the box up to Gabriel.

"Since the lights and tinsel are thrown on all crazy I'm going to let you put the ornaments on how ever you want."

Gabriel visibly relaxed at the thought of being able to bring some order to the mess of a tree. He took the box from Peter and certseyed as an afterthought. The nurse laughed at him lightly and skipped to the kitchen to get the broom.

When Peter returned Gabriel was well into decorating the tree. He was placing the ornaments in an alternating pattern, equal distances apart. Peter moved around him to sweep up the mess he caused, then moved on to stacking the boxes properly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - –

Peter pushed the tree back against the corner, then climbed under it to plug it in. He felt a light brush against his butt and looked back to see Noah's palm resting on his rump. He rocked forward on his knees and hissed slightly at the unexpected feel of Noah's claw scratching down his ass. Gabriel pulled Noah away gently by the collar and helped Peter get out from under the tree.

They stood side by side to bask in the light glow of the tree. Peter could see a happy twinkle in Gabriel's eyes and smiled at his accomplishment. He rocked sideways to bump his shoulder against Gabriel's.

"Not bad for our first tree together...your first tree...is it?"

___Not bad at all._

Peter got behind Gabriel and guided him to lie down under the tree. An icicle ornament dangled just millimeters from the watchmaker's nose.

"This tree is going to lose nettles everyday. And Noah might pee on it, or knock it over...Sylar might even knock it over. Ornaments might fall off and one of the bulbs could blow. Tinsel will fall off of it all the time."

Gabriel let out a distressed sound and tried to wriggle out from under the tree. But Peter reached forward and pushed him by his shoulders back to the floor.

"And so, in light of this, I am going to reward you now for letting me put the tree up at all."

Peter smirked and ran his hands down Gabriel's body. He slowly undid the watchmakers jeans and slid them down to mid thigh. He pressed his thumbs lightly into Gabriel's hipbones and stroked the skin there softly. Then he bent down to nuzzle the trail of hair that started at Gabriel's navel and disappeared into his boxers. He pressed a soft kiss against the waistband of those boxers and then mouthed at the cotton.

Gabriel whined softly and shifted his legs, trying to move his pants farther down. Peter nudged Gabriel's legs farther apart and then moved to lie between them. After a few more saliva laden gummings Gabriel was hard and straining against the plaid fabric of his boxers.

Peter released one of Gabriel's hips and pulled the opening of the boxers apart. He watched in awe as Gabriel's erection rose slowly out of the opening and then fell to lie against his abdomen. Gabriel sobbed once in embarrassment but didn't move away.

"It's beautiful Brei, the things your body does..."

Peter strained forwards, using his toes as leverage, to kiss at the underside of Gabriel's erection. He pushed his lips to cover the bottom of the circumcision scar and sucked. Peter heard a soft, deep inhale followed by a shaky exhale.

******Roll the lips over the gums. Watch out testicles here I come.**

Peter's head jerked forward in surprise and his teeth caught on Gabriel, causing him to whimper in pain and embarrassment. Peter put his hands on either side of Gabriel's hips and raised himself up. He crawled forward slowly and leaned down just enough to rest the tip of his nose against Gabriel's. He knocked aside the icicle ornament and heard a 'tink' as it hit the ground. Gabriel huffed.

"He's just trying to rile you up. Sylar, play nice. If you want a round under the tree we'll have a go in the morning."

When Peter got no response he assumed he had a deal. He kissed the tip of Gabriel's nose and moved back down to finish what he started. When he was situated once again he reached out and pulled Gabriel's erection towards his mouth.

He started with soft sucks to the head. He bobbed his head slowly, taking a little more each time but not going farther than half way. He let his mouth to open clumsily in order to dribble spit down Gabriel's length. When enough had worked its way down he brought a hand up to grip lightly at the base of Gabriel's erection.

When his mouth moved down his hand moved up. Peter hollowed his cheeks and sucked at every retreat and twisted his wrist each time his mouth and hand pulled apart. Gabriel was keening and panting. His head was rocking from side to side, his hace lit up by the glow of the tree.

Peter smirked at Gabriel's face and pulled back to press the tip of his tongue to Gabriel's slit. Peter then pulled away entirely so he could straddle Gabriel's legs and sit on his own knees. Then Peter reached out again and held firmly just below the head. He twisted his hand back and forth a few times before leaning down to lick heavily with at the tip with the flat of his tongue.

Gabriel cried out at the new sensation and bucked his hips. Peter sat up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear before leaning down again. He pressed a kiss to the tip of Gabriels erection and sucked as hard as he could.

Gabriel gasped and clawed at the floor as he came. Peter's mouth was flooded with hot salty semen and he concentrated on swallowing it all. When Gabriel started to soften Peter slid his lips down to completely cover the head and keep up his sucking. The watchmaker's body was wracked with tremors as the aftershocks rolled through his system.

When Gabriel was finally spent Peter crawled up his limp body to place a small kiss on his cheek.

"Love you Brei."

Gabriel opened his eyes a sliver and smiled.

"You have tinsel in your hair. It's pretty..."

Peter stifled a laugh at Gabriel's slurred speech.

Not the most eloquent post orgasm are you?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	20. Chapter 20

December 20th

Eggnog

3rd Person POV

When Peter woke up in the morning it was to an empty bed. He wriggled across the bed to lie spread eagle in the center of the matress and stretched his limbs out as far as he could. He relaxed with a sigh and tucked his nose under the side of Gabriel's pillow. The blanket had risen up in his stretch and his toes were now exposed to the cool air. He curled them in, trying to gain some warmth, then turned partially on his side to curl into a semi-fetal ball.

"Hmmmmm."

Peter let the calm morning wash over him. He couldn't hear Noah barking and begging to be walked. He couldn't hear the scratching of cleaning brushes, or the gurgle of the coffee maker. The television was off and the world outside was blissfully muted. Peter kept his eyes closed and enjoyed the moment, knowing it wouldn't last. And sure enough after a few more blissful moments he heard the door open and Noah's happy barking.

Peter sighed and scrunched his eyes tighter. He felt a rough bounce of the bed, followed by a wet nose pressing into his back through the blanket. He reached a single had behind him to blindly shoo the dog away. But Noah would not be detered. He just pounced forward. Now, draped over Peter's side, he began sniffing happily at the sheets.

"G'way Noah."

A single converse sneaker smacked Peter on the side of his head. He flailed about momentarily then sat up and glared at Sylar. The reformed killer was standing with his arms crossed in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Don't treat the dog that way."

Peter frowned but made no objection. Noah was now resting his head in Peter's lap, staring up at him sadly. The corner of Peter's mouth flicked down quickly before he brought his hand up to scratch Noah behind the ears.

"Sorry boy, I was just tired."

Noah woofed softly and enjoyed a few more seconds of petting before padding off the bed. He made his way towards the door and licked Sylar's one socked foot before leaving. Peter spread his arms and flopped back to the matress. He heard the small thunk of Sylar's other shoe being thrown across the room and the noise encouraged Peter to brush the other sneaker off the bed. He took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes.

The bed dipped slightly at the foot and Peter smiled, thinking Sylar was coming to join him. Instead Sylar flipped up the bottom of the blanket, gripped firmly at both of Peter's ankles, and tugged. Before Peter had time to grab onto something his head was thunking against the floor. Sylar drug him by his ankles into the living room. When they were next to the tree Sylar let go and Peter's heels thunked harshly against the ground.

Peter grumbled in discomfort but knew better than to move. He pressed his palms to his eyes and rubbed. In the background he could hear Sylar digging through a plastic bag. After a minute of so Sylar found what he was looking for and came back to Peter. He stood over the shorter man, his feet planted firmly on either side of Peter's hips.

Seconds later Peter felt something cool and frothy splash against his stomach. The muscles of his abdomen convulsed, creating small pools of liquid that spilled over seconds later. Sylar smirked and closed the carton of eggnog and telekeneticly set it aside. He raked his eyes over Peter's lower body.

Eggnog was pooled in Peter's belly button and from there it spread out in a pale yellow pool. It had sloshed over his sides and was slowly trickling onto the floor and into Sylar's socks. The fabric of Peter's sleep pants were slowly absorbing the eggnog.

"Sylar..."

Sylar shushed him and fell to his knees over Peter. He grabbed Peter tightly under his chin and forced his head still. Sylar bit down hard on Peter's lower lip, drawing blood, then started a kiss. Sylar's fingers pressed harder into the smaller man's jaw as he worked his tongue in. Sylar groaned at the metallic tang of blood in Peter's mouth.

The nurse arched up into Sylar, sloshing even more of the eggnog onto the floor. Sylar pulled away and make quick work of his pants. He pushed them open just enough to free his erection before he got to his knees again. He reached up to rake his nails down Peter's nipples just before dipping his tongue into Peter's belly button.

The nurse hummed in appreciation and closed his eyes to enjoy the feel of Sylar's tongue lapping up the eggnog. Every sweep of the tongue was followed by the lightest hints of stubble scratching across his stomach. Peter was torn between laughing and moaning at the sensation.

Sylar drug his tongue in long sweeps across Peter's stomach. Drool and eggnog built up on his chin and nose and he smeared it across the clean sections of Peter's stomach so he could lick that up too. When Sylar pulled away only thin trails of sticky, drying eggnog striping Peter's sides, were left.

Peter was panting heavily, his chest heaving and his face pink. He reached out to grab Sylar's hand, intent on pulling him up for a kiss. But Sylar yanked his hand free and pulled back enough to flip Peter harshly onto his stomach. He dug his fingers into Peter's lower back and raked them down, leaving angry read lines and catching Peter's waisteband in the process. He grabbed fistfuls of fabric at the nurses hips and yanked them down just enough to bare his ass.

Peter folded his arms and rested his forehead there. When Sylar yanked him up by the hips Peter pulled his knees under himself and pressed back against Sylar's groin. He tried to spread his legs but Sylar squeezed both of his outter thighs and held them together.

"Stay put Petrelli."

Peter nodded into his arms and tried to relax. He visualised the picture they made and shivered. For some reason the thought of Sylar taking him with his jeans still on unsettled him. He tried to calm his breathing.

This is Sylar. It'll hurt, but it's a good hurt. Stay calm Peter. Stay calm.

First he felt Sylar's saliva slicked member slide inbetween his cheeks. Then he felt the rough scratch of a zipper and denim. He shivered as Sylar began to thrust gently against the seam of his ass and the zipper of his pants caught on his skin.

Sylar's thumbs stroked small circles on Peter's ass before he moved his hands in to pull Peter's ass apart. He pulled his own hips back and leaned down to spit along the top of Peter's ass. A thick trail of spit dribbled down from Peter's tailbone down through the seam of his ass, before it dripped down onto his pants.

Sylar reached forward with a single finger to press harshly into Peter's perenium, from there he drug it up to collect spit. His fingertip circled Peter's entrance twice before he pushed in quickly. Peter was whining into the carpet and weakly pressing his hips back against Sylar's fingers. The taller man jammed his finger in and out of Peter a few more times, making sure to scratch as much as possible.

It wasn't long before Peter was gasping and whining into the carpet. There was a thin trail of spit dripping down to the carpet. Sylar pulled his finger free and stroked himself a few times before guiding himself into Peter. He pushed in quickly, grabbing tightly at Peter's thighs. When his zipper was pressed firmly into the delicate skin of Peter's ass he reached around to pull out the elastic of Peter's pants. He let go and it snapped back, delivering a sharp sting to Peter's still trapped erection. The nurse hissed and jerked his hips away.

"Moan nice and pretty for me and I'll let you come."

Peter nodded into his arms and rocked back against Sylar. The taller man gripped tightly at Peter's hips, straightened his own back, then set a fast pace. Instead of thrusting forward Sylar yanked Peter's hips back to meet him. Peter's head dragged across his arms with each thrust, until finally it thunked against the floor. He seperated his arms and clawed at the carpet. Peter keened loudly when his erection caught on the inside seam of his pants. The cotton felt itchy and tight against his prick and he was desperate to free himself.

Sylar reached aroud Peter and squeezed him through his pants. Peter screamed into the carpet and then turned his head to the side. He kept up a steady steam of moans, keens, and breathy 'Sylar's'. Peter was exaggerating just a bit for Sylar's sake but not all of it was fake. His one cheek was being rubbed raw against the carpet and his knees were starting to burn. Sylar was just barely rubbing across his prostate. Peter struggled forward to gain more friction against his member but Sylar wouldn't have it. He released Peter's front and threw Peter from him forceably.

The nurse's lower body crashed to the floor. He grunted and let out a small sob before rolling onto his back. As Sylar stood Peter reached into his pants with both hands and worked himself quickly. His hips jerked upwards sparadicly and the muscles in his abdomen twitched and tensed.

His mouth fell open and he tossed his head back, his eyes closed tightly. Peter trailed one hand down to finger himself while he pulled and tugged at himself. He felt Syar's socked feet brush against his thighs. The nurse looked up at Sylar from under his lashes.

**Say it.**

"Sylar! Sylar! Sylar!"

Each yell of the name was accented with a tight squeeze and jerk to his erection. His eyes slid shut just as he heard Sylar groan his name. Seconds later he felt Sylar's hot semen splash across his stomach and chest. When Sylar fell to his knees over him, Peter came. His own semen mixed into Sylars and pooled in the dips of his abdomen, around his peircing, and in the dip between his pecs.

He let his hands slide out of his pants and onto the floor. He shut his eyes and relaxed into the feeling of his afterglow. When the semen started to cool Peter felt Sylar's fingers drag through the mess on his stomach.

Sylar collected a large glob of their mixed come on his fingers and rubbed it onto Peter's lips. The nurse licked his lips and opened his mouth slowly. When Sylar slipped his fingers into Peter's mouth the nurse sucked and licked softly.

Peter opened his mouth for more when Sylar moved his fingers away. The two of them laid quietly in the shadow of the Christmas tree, Sylar collecting the come in his fingers, and Peter sucking it away. When the mess was gone Sylar settled back and rested the back of his head on his palms. Peter turned onto his side and rested his head on Sylar's chest and tangled his legs with the taller man's.

Just as Peter was about to drift off to sleep Peter heard faint whisperings from Sylar's head. A quick glance up told him the other man was asleep. Peter concentrated harder, straining to hear what Gabriel was saying.

_Don't let anyone drink the rest of the eggnog._

Is it going bad?

_No, Sylar plans on...coming in it later..._

Peter's mouth feel open in disgust and he jerked his head away from Sylar. He stared in shock down at the other man, his lip hooked down and his eyes wide.

He wouldn't.

_He thought it would be funny if you drank it..._

Peter punched Sylar once on the chest and stormed away to dump the eggnog down the drain.

"Hey! I had plans for that!"

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	21. Chapter 21

December 21st

Dinner

3rd Person POV

The smell of honey glazed ham, baked turkey, fresh bread, cranberry sauce, and cinnamin waffted through the apartment. It was a warm and cozy 78 degrees and the tree was lit up and glowing softly in the corner. Christmas carols were playing softly out of the speakers near the television. Noah was sleeping underneath the kitchen table, he had drug his pillow under there hours ago. The house was quiet of voices and besides the caroling the hum of the radiator, and Noah's occassional snore was all that could be heard.

It was an awkward silence. Peter, Angela, and Renee were sitting around the table while Gabriel scurried about the kitchen to get everything ready. He kept his footsteps light and his eyes downcast. Angela had called the night before to tell Peter she was going to come over for an early Christmas dinner. Not a full minute later there was a knock at the door. Three delivery boys were carrying Christmas groceries and as Peter could barely cook for himself, Gabriel had been left to it.

Peter felt horrible. He knew he hadn't spent a decent amount of quality time with his mother since he began dating Gabriel, but he couldn't help it. He loved his mother, but he hated so much of what she had done. He wasn't sure how to approach her with his new life choices, so he avoided the issue all together. He also felt bad for Gabriel. The taller man had thrown a fit. He'd paniced.

After the phone call Gabriel had ran his hands through his hair and started hyperventilating. Before Peter had been able to help Gabriel dashed off to get his cleaning supplies. Around eleven Peter forced Gabriel to eat a sandwhich then he headed off to bed after receiving a promise that Gabriel would follow after his meal. But when Peter woke up at two in the morning to go the bathroom Gabriel was still at it. His back was hunched down as he leaned in close to see any missed spots on the counter he was scrubbing. Peter had to pull Gabriel away and drag him to bed. Gabriel cried himself to sleep with Peter wrapped around his back, whispering to him that everything would be okay.

So Peter sat at the table with mixed feelings. But mostly he was aggitated. He traced small circles into the wood of his table and kept his eyes on his plate. His mother hadn't tried to start a conversation and for that Peter was thankful. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Renee move a bowl of sweet potatos to the side and seconds later he saw Gabriel put down a bowl of cranberry sauce.

He turned in his chair to face Gabriel and smiled warmly. The taller man was looking at his feet and twisting his hands in front of him. His lower lip trembled and he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Peter reached out and clasped his hand with Gabriel's. The watchmaker took a deep breath.

"It's all there, you can eat."

Angela gave a sharp nod and Peter turned back to face the table. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard Gabriel walk away but was distracted by Renee asking for the stuffing. He assumed Gabriel was just cleaning a small mess and that he would be back momentarily. But five minutes went by and Gabriel was still nowhere to be seen.

Peter excused himself and headed for the kitchen. There he found Gabriel pushing sweet potatos and peas around his plate.

"You're not going to eat with us Brei? You worked so hard..."

Gabriel hiccuped once, his shoulders shaking. Tears were fighting to fall down his cheeks.

"It's not like t-they want me here."

"Gabriel..."

Gabriel let out a choked sob and then slid to the floor. He pressed his back against the counter and drew his knees up to hide his face.

_I ruin everything! They hate me! She's doing this to punish me and I deserve it! I __deserve__ to be punished for my sins. But it hurts...hurts so much. Wanna go away...go so far away._

Gabriel's shoulders were shaking harder and Peter knew he'd finally let the tears spill over. He walked closer to Gabriel and sat next to him on the floor. He pulled to taller man towards him, allowing Gabriel to cry into his neck and shoulder. Peter held tight around Gabriel's middle and placed soothing kisses anywhere he could reach.

He was suddenly aware of how quiet it had gotten in the dining room. He couldn't even hear the clacking of silverware against the plates. They were listening in. Peter glared in their direction even though they couldn't see him.

Damn it. I thought for once I could just have a nice Christmas. Now I'll be lucky if I can keep Gabriel from leaving me tonight.

"Peter, Peter come out before the food gets cold. Bring Gabriel with you please."

Gabriel sniffled and whined into Peter's neck, not wanting to leave the safety of the kitchen. Peter rubbed his arms soothingly up and down his boyfriends back and made shushing noises.

"It's okay, I promise to protect you."

**You better, or ****I ****will.**

Peter pressed a kiss to Gabriel's forehead and stood. He reached out to help Gabriel off the floor and rubbed his back soothingly as the watchmaker dried his eyes and retrieved his plate. Peter lead him, hand on Gabriel's lower back, into the dining room and into an empty seat. The taller man was sitting between Renee and Peter. He still felt he had no right to be anywhere near Angela.

_I can't believe you kissed her._

**She doesn't look bad for her age.**

Peter cleared his throat in Gabriel's direction and then nodded towards the food.

"What do you want Gabriel?"

Gabriel slouched in his seat, trying to shy away from everyone's attention. He shook his head and began getting his own food.

_Don't cater to me. Talk to your mother. She misses you._

Peter sighed and forced a smile in his mother's direction.

"So...an early Christmas dinner, this is new."

Angela nodded and swallowed. She took a sip of her water before eyeing Gabriel and then turning her attention to Peter.

"I knew you'd be less than willing to come visit me, and to be honest I was curious about your situation with Gabriel and Mr. Sylar."

Gabriel bit his lower lip and put his fork back on the table. He began breathing deeply through his nose and twisted his fingers into his pants. Peter reached under the table to take one of Gabriel's hands and squeezed.

"I'm in a relationship with them both if that's what you're asking."

Peter looked back and forth between Renee and Angela. At first he saw nothing but controled blankness on each of their faces. But the more he looked the more he noticed. Angela was concerned, lonely, and curious.

_I just want to know how my baby boy is doing. I miss you so much Peter..._

Peter leaned to the side and kissed his mother on the cheek. He tipped his head forward and rested his forehead against her temple and closed his eyes.

"I know mom, I'm sorry."

He kissed her cheek again and pulled away.

"Me and Brei will answer your questions after dinner. He worked hard, it'd be a shame to let everything get cold."

"A shame indeed."

Gabriel's head jerked to the side in shock. His eyes comicly wide and mouth slightly agape. He apparently hadn't been aware that Renee could talk. Renee and Angela laughed quietly at his reaction and Peter laughed heartily into his hands. The tension had eased and the meal continued with a lighter air.

- - - - - - - - - - - - –

Gabriel was sitting on the reclining chair with Peter on the arm of it, arms crossed. Renee and Angela were seated comfortably on the couch, each of them holding a mug of tea. Gabriel had decided not to take a glass of his own on the off chance that one of Angela's questions made him choke or spit. Peter thought it was a wise move and decided against tea as well.

"So Gabriel, you are Gabriel at the moment aren't you?"

Gabriel nodded and pressed his glasses closer to his face.

"Yes Ma'am. Sylar doesn't like wearing our glasses. It helps Peter tell us apart...well that and..."

Angela raised an eyebrow and raised a hand to stop him.

"I think I get the gist of it. Gabriel...do you still own the watch shop? Do you have other hobbies?"

Angela started out slow, asking questions that allowed her to get to know Gabriel better. She had never really met him after all, just Sylar masquerading as him. She wanted to know who her son had fallen so hard for. She wanted to know what it was about this man that allowed Peter to forgive Nathan's death.

The longer Gabriel talked the more animated he became. Once he realized Angela wasn't out to get him, nor the Hatian, he was more willing to respond. He was more open, more child-like in his enthusiasm. Angela took the reactions in kind, opening up little by little, even allowing small smiles to shine through. But Peter wasn't worried about her, he was worried about Renee. Renee was a good man, but he was also very interested in keeping Peter safe. The nurse feared Renee would do something to Gabriel or Sylar, something the Hatian thinks is in Peter's best interest, and not necessarily something Peter wants.

But finally Peter was torn away from studying Renee and brought into the conversation. Peter had slid on the armrest, half of his butt was now resting in between Gabriel's arm and the side of the chair. His upper body was tipped onto Gabriel's and he tilted his head to rest the side of it on the top of his boyfriend's.

"Peter, do you and Gabriel...and Sylar...plan on having any more of a family?"

Gabriel tensed and bit his lip. Peter slid a hand into on of Gabriel's and squeezed it gently.

"We're thinking about it. But not too soon, we have forever. For now we have Noah to keep us busy."

Seemingly tired of being ignored, Noah bounded into the room at the mention of his name and barked happily at Angela and Renee. He feinted back and forth between them, nugging his face into their legs and barking at them. He quieted when Renee began petting him.

"Noah? You didn't name him after Mr. Bennet did you?"

"I wanted it to be a reminder...I'll never forget...but it's better that I have a glaring example of what I've done staring me in the face everyday. It reminds me of what I am."

The words were soft, sad, and shakey. Peter kissed the top of Gabriel's head. He knew better than to speak with him about these things. It only brought pain, tears, and Sylar's angry face.

Angela was slightly taken aback at the response. She had expected Gabriel to explain that it was a biblical reference. But she nodded once in understanding. She knew a little something of those types of reminders.

With that one question the room grew tense again and Peter feared the worst. But Angela clasped her hands together and leaned forward on the couch.

"Well! I think we've taken up a great deal of your time today boys, and unannounced at that. But just one more question before I go."

Gabriel nodded and gave Angela a soft smile, glad for the peace that was coming.

"Why on Earth did Sylar kiss me?"

Renee turned his head slowly to face Angela and raised an eyebrow. Peter stiffled a laugh into Gabriel's hair and then shuddered as he felt Sylar come to the front to answer the question.

"I wanted to taste a different brand of evil. And let's be honest, you wear your age well."

Angela cleared her throat and stood. She straightened her jacket and held her hands out for Peter to come closer. The nurse slid off the couch and hugged his mother tightly before pulling away to help Gabriel stand. Sylar had retreated in order to embarrass Gabriel and it had worked. A dark blush spread from his cheekbones down his neck and under the collar of his shirt.

When Angela motioned for a hug from Gabriel, Peter took Renee aside. He grabbed Renee tightly by his upper arm.

"Don't take him away from me. Either of them, please Renee. I'm begging you."

Renee put his hand over Peter's and looked him in the eye.

"I will always come if you need me."

"I don't want to lose him."

"But maybe _he_ could stand to lose a few things."

Peter's hand slid from Renee's arm.

"Those memories make them who they are."

"And all the strife those memories have caused?"

"I've made my peace with that, and he's dealing with it in his own way."

Renee nodded once and followed Angela to the door. He nodded to Gabriel in goodbye and then left with Angela. Peter let out a big sigh and hugged Gabriel around the middle. He pressed a kiss into Gabriel's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Wanna take a bath together? Wash away all the yuck of the day?"

"Bath's aren't very sanitary."

Peter pulled away and tugged Gabriel towards to bathroom. He cocked his head back and smiled.

"Fine, then we'll take a dirty shower instead."

_Dirty? But-_

**Gabriel, not that kind of dirty.**

_Oh..._

"Oh indeed Brei. Oh indeed."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	22. Chapter 22

December 22nd

Babysitting

3rd Person POV

At 7:30 in the morning Gabriel answered the door and recieved a handful of baby. A petite asian woman had pushed past him to put two diaper bags and a folded basinet on the living room floor.

"Mrs. Petrelli says you are to take care of her for the day."

Gabriel's mouth hung open in shock and he held the baby at arms length. The young asian pushed past Gabriel again and stode out the door. When the door started to swing close Gabriel came to his senses and rushed out the door after her.

"Wait! I don't even-"

"Her name is Katarshena."

And Gabriel was alone. Alone with the baby. Alone with Katarshena, a little girl he knew nothing about.

**We know she's Russian.**

Gabriel nodded slowly to himself and wandered back to his apartment. He pulled the baby closer to himself and closed the door. When he made it back to the living room Noah was sniffing at the bags and the basinet. He tried to climb into the basinet and Gabriel had to shoo him away with his foot.

Gabriel nervously held Katarshena afloat with telekenesis and bent down to put the basinet together. It was up and ready in under two minutes and Gabriel slid it into the kitchen, Katarshena floating behind him.

Gabriel carefully took the baby girl back into his arms. She gurgled softly at him and began drooling on his cardigan. He cringed and placed her gingerly into the basinet. He slowly tucked a blanket around her little body and wiped some drool from her chin. Then ran as fast as he could towards the phone.

He clutched the phone like a lifeline and dialed franticly. When he heard the first rings coming through the earpiece he started rocking on the balls of his feet.

"Come on, come on, come on, come on, come o-PETER!"

Peter answered his phone and was assaulted by a desperate, paniced cry from Gabriel. He made shushing noises into the phone and walked away from Emma, signaling that he'd be back in a minute. Peter found an empty room and locked himself in and then hopped up to sit on the counter.

"Shhh, it's okay. It's okay Brei. What's wrong?"

Gabriel whimped into the phone and pushed his glasses up onto his forehead so he could rub his eyes.

"Okay, Brei, can you put Sylar on so he can explain? Would that be okay Brei?"

Peter spoke in a soft coersing voice, hoping that the question wouldn't offend him. He heard hair rustling from the other line and knew Gabriel was nodding. He held the phone away from his ear and waited.

"YOUR MOTHER! There is a BABY here! A BABY! A Russian baby Petrelli! Other than the obvious, what the hell is wrong with your mother?"

Peter's mouth fell open and his eye twitched.

I honestly have no idea.

"Okay, I'll call her and get the details. But...for now...just take care of the baby and...don't let Gabriel have a heart attack."

Sylar huffed into the phone and hung up without a goodbye. He turned back towards the basinet and tossed the phone onto the counter. He put Gabriel's glasses on the counter gently and walked towards Katarshena. When he leaned over to see her she was sticking out her tongue and rolling her lips over it. She did this several times, causing a heavy stream of drool to spill across her chin, cheeks, and neck.

Sylar reached down and wiped the spit away with the corner of her blanket. He smiled down at her and cocked her head to the side. Sylar guessed that she was around a month old. He ran a single fingertip down her forehead and down to the tip of her nose. He tapped her there once before pulling away.

"Hey little one. I'm Sylar, the nervous wreck from before was Gabriel, and we'll be watching you today."

_You know she can't understand you._

**No, but she likes the soothing inflection of my voice.**

_Okay..._

**Babies like the attention Gabriel.**

Sylar stripped off the cardigan and reached down to pick up Katarshena. He was careful to support her head and laid her across his arms and close to his chest. He rocked her gently up and down and made his way to the couch.

Gabriel made sure to pay close attention to what Sylar was doing. He had a feeling Sylar would find it funny to thrust him to the forefront without warning. He felt saddness wash over him as he saw who efortlessly Sylar cared for Katarshena. He worked a warm smile on his face, cooed at her, spoke in a baby voice, and floated things in her line of vision. Every now and again he would lower his nose to hers and brush them together.

Gabriel, not for the first time, was jealous of Sylar. Sylar was assertive, calculating, confident, and sexy. He was a mess. He had created Sylar out of desperation and in that desperation someone much better than him was formed. That was part of the reason he allowed Sylar to keep the forefront regaurdless of his homicidal behavior. Sylar, when he wasn't out killing, was a remarkably productive member of society.

**You ready Brei?**

Gabriel was thrust back into the forefront before he could reply. Katarshena was tucked into his right arm and suckling from the bottle in his left. Gabriel made a distressed noise and tensed his back. The baby girl blinked up at him slowly before sliding her eyes closed entirely. When she finished half the bottle Gabriel relaxed his spine and slumped a little over her.

_This isn't so hard. Messy...but not hard..._

******You make everything too damn difficult.**

Gabriel exhaled slowly and pulled the bottle from Katarshena's mouth. He threw a blanket over his shoulder and raised her up to burp her. He cringed softly when he felt a small spray of saliva hit his earlobe, but he steadied his breathing and continued to pat her back.

After a few more pats she wriggled against his shoulder and jerked her body back and forh a few times, excited with the new view. Gabriel smiled and ran his hand down the length of her body once before switching out the blanket and walking her around the apartment. When she drifted off to sleep Gabriel was mildly disapointed. He held her a bit longer, standing in the middle of the living room, shifting his weight back and forth.

When Noah started clawing at the door he opened his mouth and nervously made his way to the door.

_He needs to go, what do I do with Katarshena?_

**Ask the neighbor to walk him. If we have to live next to these people the least they can do is exchange favors with us.**

_Sylar, if anything we owe __them__._

**He's gonna pee on the carpet.**

_Right, neighbors._

Peter had gotten his mother's voicemail six times, Hesam's admonishing glare at least ten times, and one half-assed, curt explaination.

After Angela's heart to heart during dinner the previous night, she had decided to merge two problems. Katarshena was a baby with similar circimstances to Claire. Her parents had died when their own powers got away from them and now she was bouncing around the Company employees. Peter felt his heart clench at the story.

When he came home he found Gabriel kneeling over the couch cusions, cooing at Katarshena. She was trying her hardest to grab onto either Gabriel's nose or his loose hair. Peter slumped back against the front door and ran a hand through his hair.

Cute.

Gabriel picked Katarshena up off the couch and carried her over to Peter. The nurse took her with a smile on his face. He cooed and babbled at her before putting her in the basinet. He tickled her neck before pulling away and putting his hands high on Gabriel's chest.

"Peter, about Katarshena-"

"Please, please Brei, don't ask if we can keep her. It's too soon."

He looked up at Gabriel's face, expecting tears. Instead he got a sad smile.

"I do want to keep her, but not now. It was nice, but still too difficult. Sylar had her most of the day. I had her when she was sleepy."

Peter stood on his tippy-toes and kissed Gabriel chastely.

"We can visit though. She's been staying with my mother."

**That poor child.**

_Sylar!_

And it begins...

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	23. Chapter 23

December 23rd

Shop Windows

3rd Person POV

Peter had been given the rest of the week off. Apperantly his tendancy to take overtime had amassed him enough hours for a mini vacation, during the holiday's no less. But no one had bothered to call him to tell him otherwise. So he'd made it all the way to the hospital at 7am, only to be shooed away by Hesam.

He snuggled his nose further into his scarf and tried to walk behind a portly man, using him to block the wind. It worked for two blocks before the portly man headed into a coffee shop. Peter sighed and looked into the sky. It was just begining to snow and tiny snowflakes were clinging to his lashes.

He didn't want to hail a cab and risk getting Mohinder, the chances were slim, almost astromonical. But with the way his life seemed to be made of coincidences he didn't want to take that chance. Mohinder was still a bit testy over the recent Molly incident. And if had managed to get over it he would just segway into mocking his choice of boyfriend. Peter got it, he really did, he just didn't want to hear anymore about it.

So Peter shook his head and continued on his way. He sped up his walk and bowed his head to the wind. A few blocks later Peter found himself outside of Gray and Sons watch shop. The shop looked warm and inviting and as Peter pressed his pinkened nose to the glass he could see Gabriel, hunched over a watch. Peter rubbed his hands together before opening the shop door and rushing inside. Gabriel looked up at the jingle of the door and smiled up at his boyfriend. He slid his glasses from his face and straightened his back.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Peter made his way over to Gabriel and hugged him close, trying to absorb some bodywarmth.

"I'm on holiday, apperantly I work too much."

Gabriel nodded the affirmative and wrapped his arms around Peter. They snuggled together, still standing, until Peter could feel all of his extremities again. When the nurse was suffieciently warm he stood on his tippytoes and rubbed his nose against Gabriel's. The watchmaker leaned down to give Peter a quick kiss before pulling away.

"What are you working on?"

Gabriel glanced down at his worktable and pushed a spare part away.

"I'm just finishing up a German antique wrist watch. I've been working on it for years, little by little."

Peter nodded and admired the piece. He wasn't enamored with watches in the same way as Gabriel but he could appreciate it's beauty. It was old, delicate, and intricate.

"It's nice Brei."

Gabriel smiled widely and put the watch into a velvet-lined container and set it aside. Peter bumped his hip softly into Gabriel's and sat down on the work bench. He looked closely at the little gears and srews and wondered how Gabriel managed with his glasses.

**We should have dirty work sex.**

_Sylar! Even if it wasn't inappropriate, I have glass shop windows. Anyone from the street could see!_

**That makes it even better, adds a thrill.**

Peter sucked in a deep breath and slapped his legs.

"Ooookay, so obviously I'm a bad influence."

Peter got up from the bench and hugged Gabriel from behind. He placed a kiss at the base of his neck and then rubbed his nose across it. He brought his hands up to rub from Gabriel's stomach up to his nipples.

_You're not helping._

Peter felt the taller man squirm under his touch. Gabriel was looking nervously out of the shop window, blushing heavily but not moving away. The watchmaker placed his hands on top of Peter's and followed them on their path. Peter rested their hands on Gabriel's hips and hummed against the crook of his neck. Then he slowly moved his hands up and under Gabriel's buttonup and cardigan.

Gabriel let out a startled gasp and with shakey fingers he followed along with Peter. The nurse trailed up and tugged softly at Gabriel's chest hair then moved his hands to the side to tweak at his nipples.

"Shh, it's okay. Just relax, I've got you."

Gabriel nodded shakily and rubbed his thumbs over the tops of Peter's hands. Peter let a low breath graze across the exposed part of Gabriel's neck and curled his fingers in. He pulled his nails down slowly, tickling the flesh of Gabriel's chest. He turned his fingertips down and together so that his pointer fingers and thumbs touched and moved them down to the hem of Gabriel's pants.

He pushed his fingers into the pants teasingly, just barely pressing down the hem of his boxers. Gabriel's breath got shakier and shakier until he let out a desperate groan and relaxed back into Peter. The nurse plunged his hands the rest of the way into Gabriel's boxers and pulled his erection up to get trapped between the waisteband and his stomach. Peter pulled Gabriel's hands away and up to grab at Peter's neck.

Peter pressed a single fingertip to the head of Gabriel's erection and rubbed in slow circles. The watchmaker keened and curled his fingers tightly into the hairs at the nape of Peter's neck. The nurse smirked and ran his hands back into Gabriel's pants and pressed his own erection into the watchmaker's ass.

Peter kept his strokes slow and steady and when Gabriel's eyes slid shut he pressed a finger into the base of Gabriel's balls.

"Keep your eyes on the glass Brei."

Peter's breath skimmed over Gabriel's neck, causing a full body tremor. Gabriel took a calming breath and forced his eyes open.

_So good Peter...s'nice._

Peter pulled his hand up to rub his thumb in circles on the tip of Gabriel's erection as he stroked his fingers up and down as much as the position would allow. A few soft motions later Gabriel came whispering 'Peter'. Gabriel's come shot upward and striped his cardigan, soaking slowly into the woolen fabric. Peter pulled his hands free and wrapped his arms around Gabriel's middle, holding him up.

Peter guided him to the workbench and went to find some tissues. When he returned Gabriel was peeling his cardigan off. Peter kneeled in front the watchmaker and wiped small droplets of semen from his pants. He pulled off his own jacket then his outter shirt and handed it to Gabriel.

Gabriel sluggishly slipped it on and sniffed lightly at the collar.

"Smells like you."

Peter smiled and tucked some loose hair back behind Gabriel's ear.

"I have been wearing it Brei."

Gabriel looked up at Peter and smiled, then brought his face down to focus on Peter's crotch. He reached out and poked once at the buldge he saw there. Peter hissed and leaned forward.

**My turn.**

Peter scrunched his eyebrows together and took a step back. And Sylar pounced.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	24. Chapter 24

December 24th

The Gift

3rd Person POV

When Peter pulled himself out of bed he groggily pulled on a sweatshirt and some boots and took Noah for a walk. When he returned he noticed that Gabriel had put all the presents under the tree and that Sylar had left him a note on the counter.

It read 'Changed my mind about Christmas. I'm going to spend all day today with you instead. Be back soon. Sylar.'

Peter smiled at the bottom half of the note. Sylar had written 'love' but had apperantly thought better of it because it was heavily scratched out. The nurse stretched, curving his back and stretching his hands to the ceiling.

"I guess I'm going to give him his gift early. Sorry in advance Noah."

He leaned down and scratched at Noah's bared tummy before scratching his butt and heading towards the bathroom. He pulled a towel from under the sink and then sat on the edge of the tub. He leaned over, turned on the water, and let it flow over his hand. Three minutes later Peter was settling into the tub. He slid under to wet his hair before turning off the faucet with his toes.

When Sylar came home he immediatly noticed a large blue tarp covering the livingroom floor. There was a single wooden chair in the middle of it.

"Peter?"

The nurse poked his head out of the bathroom, his hair still damp.

"I'll be with you in a minute."

Sylar threw his keys onto an endtable and stomped towards the bathroom. When he got there Peter was sitting on the toilet, a tourniqet around his arm and a vial in his hand.

_Is that an anestetic?_

**Yeah, and I think I know what he's planning.**

"I'm sure you do."

Peter tapped his arm before pushing the needle in and emptying its contents. Sylar watched in anger as Peter pulled the needle away and threw it in the trash. Peter leaned back and let the numbing sensation wash over him. He looked sideways at Sylar, mentally cringing at the look of rage fixed on his face.

"Un-fucking-believeable! You! Peter fucking Petrelli, the empath that's always preaching that people can change! And you're doing this! How could you do this to me?! How could you do this to Gabriel?!"

Peter hauled himself up and reached to the sink to grab a handtowel. He tried to pass Sylar and head into the living room but Sylar reached out and held tight to his wrist.

"Answer me Petrelli!"

The demand was hissed out, low and dangerous. Peter tipped his head forward and let his forehead rest against the crook of Sylar's neck.

"I'm doing this for you, not to you."

Peter pulled away and called for Noah, who came running. He pulled Noah into the bathroom, scratched him behind the ears, then locked him in. Peter tugged the still angry Sylar into the living room and took a seat. Sylar yanked his hand away and gave Peter a nasty look.

"Explain!"

Peter sighed and settled comfortably into the chair.

"I admire you, and the effort you've put into repressing the hunger. I know that every day is a battle for you and Gabriel. And I know that it hurts you, knowing what I can do. But ever since we started dating you've kept yourself in check. I want to reward you for that."

Sylar clenched his hands into tight fists, his nails drawing blood.

"Peter if you think-"

Peter reached out and pulled Sylar's balled hands to his mouth and kissed his knuckles.

"This isn't about giving you an ability. This is about giving you my ability. I'm not suggesting that you give into the hunger. What I'm offering you is a fail safe. If you have my empathy you can relax a little. Your life wouldn't have to be a constant battle. You could...relieve pressure once in a while, quilt free. Pain free."

Sylar's hands loosed and his arms slipped back to rest at his sides. He looked down at his sneakers, unwilling to meet Peter's eyes.

**What if he dies?**

_Claire didn't, he won't._

**We don't know that.**

_We __**do**__ though, we know he'll be okay._

Peter staid respectfully out of the conversation, but kept his eyes on Sylar's downturned face. There was silence for a few minutes and then Sylar snapped his head back up and shoved the handtowel into Peter's mouth.

"Keep your eyes on mine. I want to see them, want to remember, forever."

Peter nodded and gripped tightly at the armrests. He took a deep breath through his nose and looked up at Sylar, and looked right into his eyes. Sylar raised a shakey hand and began. The first wave of pain washed over Peter and he groaned into the cloth. The painkiller helped a great deal, but it didn't stop everything.

Peter kept his eyes resolutly on Sylar's, his vision blurry with tears and blood. By the time Sylar had carved all the way around Peter was huffing heavily into the cloth and clawing helplessly at the armrests. When Sylar stepped forward to probe at his brain he let his eyes slide shut. A single tear, mixed with blood, rolled down his cheek when he heard the thunk of his scalp hitting the floor.

Sylar reached out and ran his fingers over the top of Peter's brain, soaking his fingers in blood. He probed and searched, careful not to push too hard lest he cause brain damage. Peter's empathy was buried underneath a plethera of other abilities. Sylar likened his own mind like flipping through a roladex. With Peter it was like shifting through stacks of newspapers. Things slid around, some spread out farther than others, some were faded, and others were crisp and clean. But he found it, at the bottom of every ability he found it. It was like a treasured clipping, well kept but still showing signs of use. The small frayed feeling was most likely due to what Arthur had done to him years earlier.

Sylar took a deep breath and let the new ability wash over him. He felt a warmth rush through his skull and down his extremities. He was vaugely aware of Peter's pain now, but overlying that was a great sense of love and relief. Sylar shuddered at his first taste of empathy and picked up Peter's scalp. He placed it lovingly on the nurses head and watched in morbid fascination as the skull melded back together, then the skin after that.

He pulled the towel from Peter's mouth and wiped the blood away with it. Peter reached out and put his hands over Sylar's. He held Sylar's hands to his face and cried. His shoulders shook and tears poured down his cheeks and rolled down his neck. Sylar could see his teeth peaking out from under his top lip and the slight tremble of the bottom lip. Peter was crying more now than he had during the incision. But all Sylar could feel was relief.

I'll never lose him. Now I'll never have to lose him. Never.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	25. Chapter 25

December 25th

Christmas

3rd Person POV

When Peter woke up it was to the warm feeling of Gabriel wrapped tightly around him from behind. He smiled warmly into his pillow and snuggled back farther. He felt Gabriel's heavy, even breathing wash over his neck and he resisted the urge to shiver. He heard Noah scrapping at the door and knew he had to get up soon and walk him, but he was too comfortable to move. He took another deep breath and scratched his nose.

_Don't let him pee on the carpet Peter, please._

Peter jerked in surprise.

"Good morning to you too."

Gabriel smiled into Peter's neck and then pressed a wet, lingering kiss there.

"Good morning Peter. Happy Christmas."

Peter turned so that his nose was brushing Gabriel's and smiled. He leaned forward for a kiss and was rewarded with a sloppy open mouthed kiss. A small trail of spit dribbled down the side of his cheek and he laughed at the ticklish feel. They broke apart and Gabriel poked him in the stomach.

"Okay, okay, I'm going."

Peter rolled out of bed and pulled on a jacket before opening the door. Noah nipped playfully at his heels as he headed for the doors and pulled on some shoes. As Peter clipped the leash onto Noah's collar Gabriel came out to plug in the tree.

"Come back soon."

Peter nodded the affirmative and saluted Gabriel before jogging out the door and out of the apartment building. Gabriel backed away from the tree and turned to stare at the carpet in the center of the living room. There wasn't a single drop of blood there, not even a stray hair, but Gabriel knew that the area of carpet that had been under the tarp would forever be burned into his memory. He'd never be able to look at that section of carpet again without feeling saddness and thankfullness. Already he could feel the weight of the hunger lifting from his shoulders.

**He's a keeper.**

_Sylar...don't say it like that. We love him, we really do love him. With all of our selves._

**I know Gabriel, just...don't make me say it.**

_You don't have to, we all know. It's okay._

Gabriel got no response from Sylar but nodded anyways and leaned under the tree to straighten out some of the presents Noah had knocked over. When everything was set out nicely Gabriel made his way to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. By the time he finished Peter had returned.

Gabriel brought a mug of hot chocolate to Peter, who was shaking snow out of his hair and off of his jacket. Gabriel smiled and kissed the tip of Peter's pinkened nose.

"Ooh, that burns a little."

Gabriel pressed another kiss there because of the remark before handing Peter the mug. The nurse took it happily and blew on it before taking a large sip. He followed after Gabriel and sat down in front of the tree, holding the mug under his nose. The watchmaker picked up his own mug, raised it at Peter, then took a sip.

"Merry Christmas Peter."

"Merry Christmas Brei."

The two of them sat towards eachother at an angle, half towards the tree, half towards eachother. The sipped quietly for a minute then both of them slowly leaned forward for a kiss. But it was interrupted by Noah. He came bounding off the couch to lick heartily at each of their faces. Peter took it in good grace, laughing. Gabriel let out a paniced whine and tried to lean away without spilling his drink or falling over. When Gabriel almost poured his drink down his front Peter reached out and pulled Noah back by his collar.

"No, no, Noah."

Peter reached under the tree for Noah's gift while Gabriel scrubbed at his face with his robe. He opened it up and pulled out a rubbery chew toy and threw it across the room. Noah bounded after it with a happy bark and began gnawing at it. Peter smiled happily at him and then turned back to face Gabriel. He leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss against the corner of Gabriel's mouth.

"Love you."

"I love you too Peter, more than anything."

"I know. Me too Brei."

They pressed their foreheads togther and shut their eyes, breathing softly over eachothers faces. They rubbed their noses together slowly before pulling away, their hair tangling together momentarily. Gabriel smiled brightly at Peter and handed him a gift. It was expertly wrapped in festive red paper with a golden bow. Peter smiled wickedly and raked his nails through the paper, shredding it. Inside there was a beautiful photo album. It was made of a dark leather and embroidered in peeling gold. It looked old, but well loved. Peter ran his hand lovingly across the cover and opened it slowly before fingering the first page.

"It's beautiful."

Gabriel smiled shyly at the compliment and looked down at his mug. He was tracing the rim of it with his fingertip.

"I know you have a shoebox full of newspaper clippings and photos. I thought maybe you'd like somewhere nice to put them."

Peter closed the album and set it aside gently. He crawled forwards on his knees and hugged Gabriel's head to his chest. The watchmaker's nose was tucked tightly against a nipple and Peter's fingers were working through his hair.

"The first page, I promise, is going to be a beautiful picture of us."

Gabriel hummed in appreciation and pulled gently away. Peter let his butt fall back to the floor and he pulled out Gabriel's gift. It was wrapped in shiney gold paper and topped with a velvety red ribbon. Gabriel stoked his thumbs softly over its side and held it upside down. He slid a single finger under the tape he found there and lifted it. Gabriel removed the wrapping paper slowly, making sure not to tear any of it.

Inside was a plain cardboard box and Gabriel set about opening it just as carefully as the paper. There, wrapped in tissue paper was a beautiful sepia globe. There was a catch around it's middle and a hinge on the spinner support and on the back of the globe. He opened it and gasped at what he saw. There was a polished glass surface and underneath a sea of bronze, gold, and copper grears, screws, and cogs. Slightly off-center there was an ivory clock face and three delicate bronze hands revolving around delicate golden roman numerals.

He ran his finger lovingly over the glass and watched the hands slowly tick forward. He held it close to his ear and listened to the tick his ability assigned to it. It was slow, but only just. A gritty cog slowing its neighbors. Gabriel knew he could fix it in a matter of minutes, just long enough to wipe the cog clean.

He looked away from his clock to see Peter worrying his lip between his teeth. He looked nervous.

"I...I know how you are about your clocks and watches. Is it okay? Do you like it?"

Gabriel hugged the globe to his stomach and smiled widely at Peter.

"It's exquisit. A little slow, but an easy fix. I'll enjoy taking it apart."

Gabriel was rubbing his thumbs lovingly across the textured surface of the globe, taking note of the indentions marking lattitude and longtitude; and then of the bumps signifying land mass. Peter looked under the tree and pulled out another gift.

Hours later, after masses of gifts, numerous calls and visits, and a reheated Christmas dinner, Peter and Gabriel eased back onto the couch, snuggling. Peter tucked his head into Gabriel's chest and let out a relaxing sigh.

"Busy day, huh Brei?"

"Very busy indeed."

Gabriel removed his glasses, setting them aside and then rubbing the bridge of his nose. Peter brought an arm up across Gabriel's chest and rested a hand against Gabriel's shoulder. His thumb stroked softly at the front of Gabriel's neck. He slid his eyes shut and rubbed his nose back and forth across the watchmaker's shirt.

Gabriel reached out telekeneticly and clicked off the radio, that had been playing Christmas music all day. They sat in silence for the first time since they had woken up. He stared lovingly at the tree. He smiled at the mess of tinsel and lights, proud that he hadn't given in to the urge to fix it. He watched it and the light snowfall beyond the window until he felt his eyes begin to droope. He looked down at Peter who was already asleep.

He let his head drop back against the couch and shifted his upper body. Peter's head slid into the crook of his arm and the nurse mumbled softly. He hooked his other arm around the backs of Peter's knees and lifted off the couch. He carried Peter bridal style into the bedroom and placed him gently on the bed.

Gabriel brushed a stray lock of hair behind Peter's ear and pressed a kiss to the center of his forehead. Peter's eyes scrunched softly before relaxing back into a scerene looseness.

"G'night Brei..."

"Good night Peter."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	26. Chapter 26

December 26th

Porno

3rd Person POV

Peter had his ass in the air, his arms stretched out in front of him. His mouth was hanging open and a stream of drool was running dripping out of his mouth and forming a puddle on the ground. His whole body was being jerked back and forth. He felt like his hip bones were quaking with the force of Sylar's thrusts.

Sylar was letting out a constant stream of curses and grunts. His fingernails dug forcibly into the nurses hips and drew blood. He heard a brief mental plea from Peter and slowed his pace, but did not soften his thrusts.

Pull out...pull out.

Sylar growled but pulled out and laid back when he felt the devious feelings pouring off of Peter in waves. Peter rushed forward as fast as he could and raised Sylar's knees. He sput his hands on Sylar's raised knees and brought his folded legs on either side of his boyfriend's hips. He reached down with one hand and guided Sylar into himself, then pulled away and let gravity do the rest of the work.

Sylar's head thunked back against the floor and he grabbed tightly onto Peter's hips. He stretched his toes and braced his feet against the carpet and brought his hips up as hard as he could to meet Peter's.

Peter tossed his head back, let his hands slide down Sylar's thighs, and rode him widely.

"Da...damn Peter...fuckin'...animal."

**Like it.**

"Hmmmmm."

Peter curled his fingers and scratched back up Sylar's thighs, leaving angry pink lines. Sylar concentrated on keeping his eyes open and fixed his gaze on Peter's cock. He groaned deep in his throat, transfixed by the rapid bobbing motion.

**We should...make porn...or something.**

Peter screamed out as he came, his head thrashing from side to side. Come spilled out to stripe Peter's chest and Sylar's. The nurse slumped forward but managed to brace his hands against Sylar's chest just before he fell completely. He curled his toes and keened softly as Sylar bucked up into him three more times before coming himself.

Peter let his hands slide away and slumped down onto Sylar, his nose digging into the side of Sylar's neck. They huffed and panted, both just relaxing in their afterglow and waiting for their heartbeats to go back to normal.

**Wasn't kidding about the porno.**

Figured.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	27. Chapter 27

December 27th

Bad Day

3rd Person POV

Peter was lying across the couch, feet proped up on an armrest, and reading a book. Every now and then he would wiggle his toes or glance over his book at Noah. He had a small fleece throw over his middle and a glass of tea sitting on the floor next to him. By the time he finished his chapter the glass of tea was covered in condensation that was dripping down to the floor.

Seconds later Gabriel shuffled into the house. His head was down and his feet were sliding across the carpet. He moved slowly towards the living room table, pulled down a coaster, and slid it under Peter's glass. He let out a sad sigh and shuffled towards the bathroom. When he got there he thunked his head against the mirror and closed his eyes.

Peter watched Gabriel the entire time over the top of his book. When he heard Gabriel's head thunk agianst the mirror he closed his book and headed towards the bathroom. He crossed his arms and leaned agaisnt the doorway.

"Brei, what's the matter?"

Gabriel's lip twisted down but he said nothing. Peter didn't want to pry into Gabriel's mind unless he had to. The two of them stood in silence for a few minutes before Gabriel finally opened his eyes. He looked into his own eyes and frowned again.

"Luke Cambell came to visit me today."

"The kid you hung out with for three days?"

Gabriel nodded agaisnt the mirror, the skin of his forehead scrunching then stretching.

"He came into the shop...and told me I was a loser. Said I wasn't worth the thought he'd given me. He told me I was afraid of the world and that...and that I should...off myself for the good of humanity."

Gabriel started crying against the mirror. Peter frowned and stepped behind Gabriel and hugged him around the middle, his forehead pressed into Gabriel's back. Peter kissed his back and let his lips linger. Gabriel's whole body is shaking with his sobs.

"Luke is a teenager, teenagers are angry at the world. And you're a big part of his world Brei, well Sylar is. But he doesn't know the difference."

"We spent three days together. Three days and he thinks I should kill myself."

Peter pulled back and turned Gabriel to face him. He put his hands against Gabriel's chest and rubbed up and down softly.

"In those three days you showed him abilities he'd never imagined could exist. You gave him a...moral code, you-"

"Sylar, Sylar did all that. I never mattered when it came to abilities."

Peter brought on hand up to rub against Gabriel's cheek. He brushed a tear away with his thumb and pressed a kiss to his nose.

"He doesn't know the difference. But fine, Sylar gave him purpose. Sylar was someone he saw as confident, strong, and invincible. Sylar was his idol."

Gabriel nuzzled his nose into Peter's palm and kissed it.

_He was crying. Was he crying because I left?_

"Probably."

Peter stood on his tippy toes and pressed his forehead against Gabriel's.

"How about I have Molly find him adn then we can have dinner togther. Talk it out with him."

Gabriel nodded and hugged Peter.

**That brat doesn't need a talking to, he ****needs**** someone to bend him over and beat his ass.**

Peter sighed and pulled away from Gabriel.

"Lets...lets hold off on that okay."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	28. Chapter 28

Summary: The diner Peter and Gabriel shared with Luke in the fic "Bad Day" which was my entry for Dec. 27th.

Tenuous Interactions

3rd Person POV

Noah sniffed cautiously at the air, taking in the scent of the lentil soup boiling on the stovetop. When he smelt no traces of meat he licked his chops and wandered away to find his owners. The smell of squash and coconut milk raised lazily into the air and wafted its way from the kitchen into the livingroom. The smell was thick and comforting to Peter. The nurse inhaled deeply as he set the table and stepped around Noah, letting the smell invade his mind.

The soup began to boil lightly, causing soft popping noises. Peter 'hm'ed to himself and hastily arranged the rest of the spoons so he could stir the pot. A well used wooden spoon scraped at the bottom of the pot, pulling all the soup from the bottom and stirring it about. Peter tucked his bangs back behind his ear and concentrated on stirring the soup properly. Although he'd made this dish several times he worried that he'd burn it because he was making it for someone else. He smiled to himself, knowing that even if he burned it to a cinder Gabriel would still eat it with a smile on his face. But tonight was about impressing Luke.

Just as he pulled the pot from its burner he heard the front door clcik open. From his postion in front of the stove Peter was able to peek out and see Luke. The boy in question had a gaurded look on his face and was observing the apartment carefully. His eyes glided over a set table and modest furniture before landing on a set of framed photographs. His eyes lingered there and his face softened.

Gabriel stood back nervously, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He cast a nervous glance at Peter, who sent him a reassuring smile.

"Luke? Dinner's done, you can go sit down."

Peter held the large pot up at nose level after telling Luke to sit. He smiled happily and gestured towards the table. After everyone had settled Peter began ladeling out the soup. Gabriel let out a long breath and began twisting his fingers together. The watchmaker was eager to get the dinner started. He hoped that Peter's cooking would put Luke at ease and that the nurse would start the conversation.

The soup did in fact start the conversation. Luke didn't seem to like it at all and poked at it with his spoon as if it were going to leap out and attack him.

"I'm a vegetarian most of the year. And since we had turkey on Christmas I wanted to eat something vegan to balance it out."

Peter smiled at Luke, hoping that his charm and empathy would win some brownie points. His charm did little to impress the teenager but he began eating regaurdless.

"So Luke...there are some things...I-I'm not the man that broke into your house. Well...I was was, but it wasn't _me_."

A nasty sneer marred Luke's face at the comment. His eyes focused on Gabriel and he felt rage and dsigust boil up inside of his stomach. He saw a weak, pitiful man before him and wondered how he could have ever have had faith in him. His eyes began to burn with unshed tears.

Gabriel licked his bottom lip nervously and reached for Peter's hand under the table.

"These abilities are mutations. Most of the time mutations are bad, they cause far more harm than good. But in other instances, like how sickle cells prevent malaria, mutations are good. These abilities...some are bad and some are good. And there are people with abilities that have _fractured_."

Luke glanced at Peter, who was staring intently at Gabriel, before focusing back on his old mentor.

"So what? You're screwed up in the head?"

Gabriel laughed nervously and twisted his fingers around Peter's.

"Yes. I have dissasociative identity disorder. My original ability didn't cause the problem, it just instigated and fortified it. I didn't have a particularly good childhood, and for more reasons than Sylar told you about. Sylar..."

There was silence for several minutes. Peter expected for Sylar to speak up, at least in his thoughts if not in body, but he remained silent. The three of them ate slowly, eating the soup but not really tasting it or enjoying it. In the far corner of the living room Noah was keeping a woefull eye on Luke, still unsure of the visitor.

"So did Sylar even care about me? Or was I just information to him?"

Peter straightened up in his seat and looked back and forth between Gabriel and Luke. He was very curious about what the answer could be.

"Sylar doesn't kill just to kill. He tries not to...it's like...an unfortunate side effect. He really did like you Luke. He does, but...you have to try and understand. All of Sylar's life he's been trying to protect me. I'm weak and timid...and barely able to function normally by myself. I'm the result of how my parents treated me and how my ability manifested. You didn't like your Mom but you weren't being hurt. The Company had more important things to deal with than you. Back then anything Sylar touched, anyone he got close to, was toxic goods. The Company became interested, constnatly looking for something they could use to strike him down. When he left you, he was doing it so the Company would think he'd lost interest. So that they would lose interest too."

Luke took a deep breath and tightened his grip on his spoon. The metal grew hot and started to warp. Peter grimaced and leaned forward, pulling the spoon away and trying not to wince at the minor burn he received. Luke opened his hands and stretched his fingers far apart before pressing his palms into the table.

"And after that? After they lost interest? You didn't even think I was worth a phone call?"

"That's my fault actually, not Sylar's. I just thought...," Gabriel looked to Peter and a single tear slid down his cheek, "I just thought that you'd be better off. I've never done anyone any good. I just assumed..."

"Assuming makes an ass out of you and me."

Peter laughed at Luke's comment. His happy, bell-like laughter dissolved the tension in the room. Luke and Gabriel let the warm tones of Peter's laugh wash over them and relax them. When the laughter began to fade Gabriel and Luke were hosts to light blushes.

The rest of the meal continued with small chatter. They talked about watches and the hospital and what types of cars were most likely to draw in women. When the soup was gone and the three of them had settled into a borderline awkward quiet, Sylar let himself be known.

Go get the Marshmellows form the cabniet Petrelli.

Peter raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. Luke watched him go in confusion, not aware that his two companions were mindreaders. He turned back towards Gabriel, ready to ask what Peter was doing when he saw the change. There was first and foremost a shift in expression. A twitch of the nose was followed by the corner of his lips turning down. His cheeks seemed to sink just before Sylar removed the glasses, setting them aside carefully. Next the posture changed, he no longer sat rigidly in his chair, but sprawled in it. Luke could see Sylar clench his teeth in the way his cheek twitched.

"Sylar?"

"The one and only. You've met Gabriel, and I heard what said to him. Since you weren't aware of our situation I'm going to let your transgression slide. But now that you know the differences, I won't tolerate another outburst like that again. Do I make myself clear?"

Sylar's left had was resting on the table top, his pointer finger was the only finger not curled against his palm. Luke took that as a warning and nodded once to show his understanding.

"Grab a plate while you're in there Petrelli!"

Peter, who was two steps away from the table, sighed and threw the bag of marshmellows at Sylar's head before heading back to the kitchen. Luke watched the exchange in awe, wondering what power the nurse had that allowed him to get away with something like that. Sylar hadn't even tried to deflect the bag, letting it smack against his head before placing it on the table.

When Peter returned Sylar telekeneticly called a pen over from an end table. Then he plucked up a single marshmellow and drew an angry face on it. Peter pulled a marshmellow to his lips and laughed behind it before pushing it into his mouth and chewing slowly. He eyed Sylar warily, wondering offhandedly if he'd be pulling marshmellows from delicate places later.

_Don't give him those kinds of idea's Peter._

Shut up Gabriel, I wouldn't disgrace a marshmellow that way.

Good to know even you have boundaries.

Sylar made a 'tch' noise, much to the confusion of Luke, as he drew a happy face on another marshmellow. He set the two of them on the plate, facing eachother, and put the plate between himself and Luke.

"The winner is the first marshmellow to expand enough to engulf the other one. Best of ten rounds is the winner. Winner gets a prize of Peter's chosing, and he's going to be the ref."

Luke's eyebrows knit together in confusion but decided to play along anyways.

Ten rounds later Luke was jumping out of his seat, fists in the air, cheering for his victory. His face was thrown up in elation and he was making mock cheering noises. Peter smiled into his milk and cast a knowing look at Sylar, who sneered at him. The nurse knew without a doubt that Sylar had let Luke win, but one look at his cheerful face kept Peter from saying anything.

"Alright, alright, calm down. Don't so full of yourself Luke, you just nuked some marshmellow's, nothing big."

Luke laughed and slumped back into his chair and smiled happily in Peter's direction.

"So...what's my prize pretty boy?"

Sylar snorted at Luke's nickname and at Peter's affronted look.

"Yeah Pretty Boy, what's his prize?"

Peter grumbled and headed for the bedroom, wondering what he could possibly give Luke as a prize. While he thought he leaned against he doorjam, folding his arms across his chest. The current conversation from the dining room drifted lazily towards him.

"So what is he to you? A fuck buddy? Or has the great Sylar subcummed to the dull marriage life?"

Sylar smirked and drummed his fingers across the tabletop.

"Something like that."

Luke snorted and leaned closer to Sylar.

"He looks like a twink, he any good in bed?"

"He's decent."

Peter's mouth dropped open in anger just before he stormed back into the dining room. Luke leaned back into his chair, trying to disapear into it, suddenly realising why Sylar put up with Peter's fit earlier. But Sylar looked back at Peter unfased, knowing that Peter's foul mood would pass once he calmed down and realised he was only trying to rile him up.

Sylar's smirk of defiance only angered Peter further. He crossed his arms and breathed heavily through his nose, trying to keep his raging thoughts secret from Sylar and Gabriel. And then he caught a passing thought of Luke's, a thought about how hot he looked at this moment, fuming and angry.

Peter calmed his expression and dropped his arms to his sides. Three sensuous steps later Peter was standing in front of Luke, looking down with a mischevious smile. Luke gulped and slumped further into his chair. Sylar watched in confusion as Peter leaned forward slowly, hte nurses pert ass level with Sylar's face.

A bright, embarassed blush blossomed across Luke's face as he gulped nervously. Peter bit his lip and feigned coyness before leaning forward and pressing a single chaste kiss to Luke's chapped lips. When he pulled away his nosetip brushed Luke's lightly and he focused an intense gaze at the teenager.

"Congraulations Luke."

Peter looked defiantly over his shoulder at Sylar and smirked.

Decent?

Sylar leaned sideways to peek at Luke, who was blushing furiously and licking nervously at his lips.

I recall my previous statement.

That's what I thought.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_series.


	29. Chapter 29

December 28th

MDMA

3rd Person POV

The previous night Peter had managed to convice Mohinder to let Gabriel borrow Molly. He had asked for Gabriel to do him a favor in exchange. The watchmaker had tentativly agreed and an hour later Peter, Gabriel, and Luke had a very awkward dinner together. Sylar made a few angry and sarcastic apperances but for the most part Luke spent his time getting to know Gabriel.

Mohinder asked that Gabriel meet him in his lab around noon. Peter had wanted to tag along but he got paged into work when a bush flipped on a highway. So Gabriel made his way to Mohinder's loft alone. When he got there Mohinder was standing at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, holding a syringe.

Gabriel nervously tugged down the hem of his sweater and slowly descended the stairs to Mohinder. He nervously edged around the geneticist and sat on an available chair. Mohinder had turned himself tensely, following Gabriel's movements with watchful eyes. He gripped the syringe tighter and uncrossed his arms.

"Mr. Gray, thank you for coming."

"No problem at all Mo-"

"I would like inject you with the contents of this syringe and observe and document the results. There won't be any lasting affects to either your body or mind. We'll begin momentarily."

Gabriel nodded in agreement and looked down at his hands which were folded in his lap. A hot, embarassed blush was working its way from cheekbones to collarbones. Minutes later he heard the loft door open and footsteps. He heard dress shoes.

**Bennet.**

_This isn't a trap...right?_

**Not if they know what's good for them.**

Gabriel glanced up quickly from beneath his lashes and saw Bennet beside Mohinder, a hand resting on his gun. He looked quickly back to his hands and jerked his head back in fear when Mohinder's hand came towards him. The geneticist pulled his hand away and curled it into a fist against his chest.

"Gabriel...I'll admit that I'm doing this more for personal reasons than scientific...but I swear to you that I'm not going to cause you harm. Mr. Bennet is just a procaution."

Gabriel nodded and relaxed. He looked past Mohinder to Bennet and nodded in greeting. Bennet's lip curled into a sneer but he remained still.

"Mr. Gray, please remove your sweater and roll up your shirt sleeve."

Gabriel did as he was instructed. He then presented his arm and watched as Mohinder tied a tourniqet to his arm then plunged in the syringe. He closed his eyes when he felt the prick and held them closed as the rush of the mystery solution rushed through his veins. Mohinder pulled the needle away and trashed it then brought over a video camera on a tripod. He turned it on and focused it on Gabriel.

Gabriel unrolled his sleeve and looked past the camera at Bennet. His eyes slid shut slowly and his lower lip trembled. He felt his conection with Sylar going fuzzy.

_Am...am I going to lose you Sylar?_

**No...just...just drugs Gabriel...**

Gabriel whimpered and brought his hands up to cover his ears, trying irrationally to hold onto Sylar's voice.

When Peter's shift finally ended he hurried away from Hesam and hailed a cab. He ran while dialing his phone and hopped into the cab with it pressed desperatly onto his ear. He gave the cabbie directions to Mohinder's loft and leaned back into his seat, listening to the ring on the other end of the phone.

When Gabriel finally picked up Peter was astounded to hear giggling. He frowned at the floor of the cab.

"Gabriel? You okay?"

He heard more giggling and the rustling of fabric.

"Peeeettteeerrrrrrr. Peter, Petey-pete, Peter. I love you. Love you soooooo much." He giggled again and then his voice dipped into a teasing low tone. "Love me too? Do you love me bunches like I love you?"

"...Of course. I love you Brei."

"Bunches?"

"Yeah...bunches."

Peter smiled awkwardly at the cabbie who was eyeing him in the mirror. As the cab rolled to a stop for a crosswalk Peter heard someone wrestling the phone away from Gabriel. He heard more giggling and a whiney 'nooooo' before Mohinder's voice came through the phone.

"My apologies Peter, he's...he's high right now."

Peter motioned for the cabbie to stop, he paid, and jumped out of the car. He started running the remainder of the way to Mohinder's loft.

"On what?!"

Peter heard Mohinder shooing Gabriel away from him and then some mumbled explatives from Bennet.

"MDMA."

Peter stopped in the middle of the street. His mouth hung open and people bumped his shoulders as they passed him.

MDMA...MDMA...X...Gabriel is on Ecstacy...

He flipped the phone shut and booked it towards Mohinder's loft. When he finally got there be burst through the door and stood in the doorframe dramaticly, his arms outstretched and his hair running wild.

From his position at the top of the stairs he could see Gabriel curled into a fetol ball in a pile of blankets, naked except for a sweatervest and socks. Bennet was standing off to his side, a hand covering his eyes, and an irritated scowl marring his lips.

"Now that Peter's here, I'm leaving. This is your problem now Suresh."

He straightened his glasses and strode past Peter and out into the hall. Peter slowly made his way down the stairs, his face still set in shock. Mohinder waved Peter closer and stepped away from Gabriel.

The watchmaker smiled goofily up at Peter, stretched out of the ball he was in and then curled in again. Peter watched in confused awe as Gabriel did this several more times and continued to smile. When Peter got within grabbing distance Gabriel uncurled one final time, rolled onto his stomach, and nuzzled his nose into Peter's ankles.

"Mmmmmmm, you have pretty, pretty ankles. They smell like socks."

Peter laughed shakily and pulled away from Gabriel's face. He sat on the floor next to Gabriel and opened his arms when the watchmaker ambled into his lap. Gabriel nuzzled his nose into Peter's neck and ran his fingers through Peter's hair. The nurse plucked at the sweater vest Gabriel was wearing and looked at Mohinder curiously.

"It's mine, he kept asking for one and I don't wear it so..."

Peter nodded and rubbed at Gabriel's back as the watchmaker made constant 'ah' and 'mm' noises. When Peter tried to pull away for a better look at Gabriel's face the watchmaker reached for the hem of his sweatervest and pulled it up to buch around his neck. He held it there with his chin and pulled Peter's hands to touch his stomach.

Peter took the cue and rubbed circles on Gabriel's stomach. Gabriel giggled again and smiled goofily. He pulled a small bunch of the sweatervest into his mouth and started chewing on it. He laughed around the fabric as Peter's fingers skimmed a ticklish path of his skin. After a few more strokes Gabriel pulled away and slithered on his back away from Peter. He pressed his socked feet into Peter's crotch and giggled crazily, obviously reveling in his bravery.

"Hey...hey Peter. Guess what."

Peter smiled at Gabriel's mischevous look.

"What?"

Gabriel pulled his knees up and righted his sweatervest. He laughed softly once and made a come hither motion with his finger. Peter crawled over and leaned in close to Gabriel's face.

"Sweater vests are just like baby blankets. But shhhhh, it's a secret. It's...I'm gonna let you in on the secret. And it's a secret. Promise not to tell about the sweater blankets."

Peter laughed and nodded.

"I promise Gabriel."

The watchmaker made a 'hm' noise and pulled Peter's ear down to his mouth. Peter had to slide his knees apart and relax his back to compensate for the new position.

"Okay, okay, sweaters are blankets that you can wear everywhere. But...but sweatervests are like baby blankets that you can wear everywhere. They're smaller and...and they don't keep you allllll the way warm, but it's nice. It's sooooo nice where you are warm. And people don't like to wear them cause they're not cool. But I know the secret. Now you know it too."

Peter initially had to repress the urge to shiver at the feel of Gabriel's lips brushing across his ear. But as the speech wore on he had to repress the urge to laugh. Mohinder, who Peter had forgotten, was struggling to hide a laugh in his arms. Gabriel had been stage whispering.

Peter sat up straight and tugged Gabriel up and to the bed. He followed behind, dragging blankets, giggling. Peter pulled off his shoes and sat on the bed. Gabriel slid onto the bed beside him, then wiggled around on his stomach. It looked to Peter like Gabriel was trying to swim on the sheets. Eventually Gabriel was spread across the bed on his stomach, his sweatervest bunched up just under his nipples.

Gabriel started rocking his hips in slow cirlces and smiled happily into the pillow. He rolled around, holding onto his blankets, until he was wrapped into a tight cocoon. Peter looked over to Mohinder and saw the geneticist turning off the camera.

"I'll just leave the two of you to it then."

He nodded once at Peter and rushed out the door, pocketing the tape on his way out. Peter turned to watch Gabriel thrust up happily into his blanket cocoon. Eventually though he tired out and relaxed into the bed and rocked his hips in gentle circles. He stretched his neck, pulling his chin free of the blankets and whined in Peter's direction. He kicked his feet restlessly and wriggled his hips. Peter smiled softly kissed Gabriel's nose.

He sat back and pushed his hand into Gabriel's erection over the mass of blankets. There was a thick clump of fabric between his hand and Gabriel's erection but the watchmaker reveled in the touch and whined softly into the air. Peter pressed harder into Gabriel's crotch and groped rhythmicly. Gabriel's hips bucked up softly and he continued to let out a steady stream of whines and keens.

When he came Peter continued to palm softly at the blankets, even as he felt a wet spot dampening his hand. Gabriel mumbeled a continuous stream of Peter's name mixed with 'good' for several minutes. When his body stopped trembling his eyes slid shut and he wriggled around until he got his arms free.

Gabriel reached out like a baby grabbing for its mother, motioning for Peter to come closer. Peter smiled and laid down, spooing Gabriel.

"Go to sleep Brei."

He laughed and pulled Peter closer. He pushed his face into Peter's neck and started nibbling on the nurses neck.

"Mmmmmm."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	30. Chapter 30

December 29th

Complaints and Comfort

3rd Person POV

When Peter made his way to the kitchen for a quick breakfast before work he found Sylar at the dining table. He was holding loosly onto a cup resting on the table and scowling at nothing.

**Mohinder thinks he's such hot shit. Video taping Gabriel like that. No right, no right at all.**

Peter kissed Sylar on top of the head, dodged the arm flung his way, and made himself some toast. While the bread was crisping he turned and leaned against the counter, his arms crossed.

"I take it you aren't going to take the high rode with Mohinder are you?"

Sylar fixed Peter with a malevolent glare. Peter raised his eyebrows and nodded once.

"I guess not."

Peter turned away from Sylar when his toast popped up and he pulled it onto a plate before digging in the fridge for butter. Before he emerged he heard a mental whisper of 'nice ass' and smiled down at his plate. Peter was blessed with silence while he buttered and ate his toast. The comfortable silence continued when he put on his shoes, gathered his supplies, and made his way to the door.

_Mohinder saw me naked...He helped me undress and then he helped me into a sweatervest. I...I will never be able to face him again._

**It's not like you two interact much anyways. And you won't be facing him next time, it'll be me. Lets see how handy that super strength is when I'm flinging him across his loft.**

_Please Sylar, no more violence._

**No more violence?!**

_With Mohinder I mean. He could show that tape to people. People could see me humping his blankets and pulling myself across his floor like a cat._

Sylar snorted and took a large gulp of his coffee. He continued to stare at the table and mumble explatives about Mohinder until the phone rang. He saw that it was Mohinder from the caller ID and resisted the urge to small the phone into the nearest surface. He clutched the phone tightly, the plastic creaking in protest. He hit the call button and brought the phone to the side of his face.

"Hello Doctor, it's Sylar."

Sylar could hear Mohinder shiver on the other line, his hair brushing briefly over the ear piece. He sneered at the phone and stood tensely, actually trying to figure out if he had the ability to reach through the phone and cause Mohinder physical harm. He didn't, but he still thought about it.

"Ah yes, hello Mr. Sylar. I was just calling for some follow up questions. I was wondering if you've been suffering any lingering effects of the MDMA? Any naseausness, fatigue, or headaches?"

Sylar clutched harshly at the phone and let out a heavy breath through his nose.

"Any lingering effects? Any lingering effects?! Gabriel refuses to surface! He refused to open the shop today. He's terrified, terrified that you will show that footage to someone. He cried himself to sleep last night and he refuses to let Peter comfort him! Constant bitching! And understandable fear!"

"My apologies Mr. Sylar, I-"

"Oh don't apologize! Be a man Suresh. If you're going to torture someone go all the way, don't do the deed and apologize for it when you see what you've done. Do me a favor and grow a pair. And once you've done that tuck them in whenever you think of contacting Gabriel again."

Sylar slammed the phone back to the receiver before Mohinder could answer. He then paced angrily across the length of the livingroom.

**I vow revenge.**

_Sylar...can you not think about vengance right now? I don't want my body anywhere near him in the near future. Maybe ever..._

Sylar rolled his eyes at the defeated, depressed tone Gabriel's thoughts had taken. He stomped over to the couch and collapsed back into it. He brought a pillow to his lap and hugged it tightly.

**Hey, it's going to be okay Gabriel.**

_Mmmmmm._

The thought was a long whine, something Gabriel did when he was too distraught to think straight.

**Gabriel...Gabriel...**

_Mmmmm..._

**Wanna watch a movie? We'll watch something you like okay.**

Sylar looked over at the movie case and roamed his eyes over Gabriel's most likely choices.

_Can we watch 'White Oleander'?_

**Yeah Gabriel, we can watch it.**

_And you won't complain that it's too gay?_

**No Gabriel, I won't complain.**

"Even though it is pretty gay."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	31. Chapter 31

December 30th

Punishment

3rd Person POV

Gabriel was very 'anti-sex' at the moment. He explained to Peter that he was still very embarassed about the MDMA incident and he wasn't prepared for Peter to see him naked just yet. Sylar was trying to withhold on sex as well out of respect for Gabriel. Peter, and his libido, were dissapointed but he would not be detered. The nurse knew for a fact that Gabriel hadn't asked Sylar to hold back and Peter was determined to get that man naked.

So he worked through lunch and got off an hour early and set his plan into motion. He dug through Sylar's bedside table and recovered the wax and cloth stripes he's stored their a week earlier. He stripped down in the bathroom and took a few deep breaths, preparing himself for what he was about to do. He heated the wax and sat with his legs wide on the lid of the toilet.

"Be a man Peter, this is all in the name of good sex."

He nodded to himself and spread some wax on his pubic hair, still stubly from the previous waxing. He pressed the cloth in and took a deep breath before yanking the strip, and the hair, free. He scrunched his eyes shut and breathed out. He threw the strip away and looked down at the pinkened patch of skin.

"Just a few more Peter."

When he finished his waxing he leaned back on the toilet and gently rubbed some lotion onto his groin. When the sting faded he gathered his shaving cream and a razor and began shaving his legs, under his arms, and his face.

He admired his hairless apperance briefly, winking and blowing a kiss at the mirror. He put the shaving stuff back and turned on the shower. He held his hand under the spray, patiently waiting for the temperature to adjust. When he felt it was warm enough he stepped in the shower and quickly washed off his body and his hair. He let himself enjoy the warm water pouring down his back for a few minutes before pulling himself away.

"Okay, I have about a half hour before Sylar gets home. That should be enough time..."

He dried himself off and ran on his toes to his messanger bag. Inside was a folded school girl uniform, makeup, and a pair of high heels. He pulled out what he needed and laid it across the bed and considered how to proceed as he toweled off his hair.

He decided to struggle into the lacy white panties first, boy shorts style. He had bought them to be a size too small, to better hide his obvious male anatomy. Next he sat on the edge of the bed and rolled on his stockings, small white fishnets with lacey embellishments on his thighs. He turned the garter belt a few times in his hands, debating if he should wear it as well. After a moment he decided to put it on but he didn't clip them to his stockings.

He sighed and slid off the bed and then pulled on his skirt. It was blue plaid, just long enough to cover the panties and it had a slit on the right side. He spun around a few times, holding onto the bottom of his skirt and laughed.

"I have actually managed to become gayer. Unbelieveable."

He looked over at the clock and stopped goofing off. He still had to finished getting dressed then he had to apply his makeup and put in his new bellybutton ring. He hastily pulled on his mini dark blue button-up shirt and tied it at the bottom. The shirt ended just below his bust line. He thought it looked wrong on him but he hoped the overall effect would make up for his lack of breasts. Next he pulled on the plaid blue tie and hurried to the bathroom with his makeup.

He turned his head slowly from side to side in front of the mirror, tilting his cheekbones to catch the light better. The night before he's had a brief and awkward conversation with Claire about what type of makeup would look best on him. She assured him that a thin layer of dark blue eyeshadow and 'smokey' eyeliner would be fine. She stressed the importance of mascara and told him that clear lipgloss would look best on him.

He knew next to nothing about makeup and decided to just give in and trust him completely. The eyeshadow he managed just fine, the eyeliner was more of a challange. He applied it crookedly three times and had to reapply his eyeshadow each time after wiping it away. By the time he pulled the mascara brush through his eyelashes he was cursing into the mirror and frowning at himself. When he finished he pulled away from the mirror with a huff and applied his lipgloss as he stomped towards the bedroom.

He had decided on platform 'stripper' heels, in a shiney black. In theory they had seemed wonderful, but when Peter stood and tried to walk around the bed he stumbled.

"Fantastic, my balance is all wrong."

He held his arms out for balance and practiced walking around the bed a few times. His walk wasn't sultry, but he learned to stand properly and that was something. He walked confidently to his dresser and pulled a jewlery box from his sock drawer. Inside there was a curved belly button bar with a blue gem bow and a small chain that dangled down and supported another small blue gem. After replacing his old piercing he sat comfortably on the edge of the bed and clipped his garter belt the rest of the way on.

When he heard the jingle of a lock being turned he crossed his legs and leaned back, supporting his weight on his locked arms. He smiled coyly at the bedroom door and waited.

Gabriel had pushed Sylar to the front just as soon he closed up the shop. He walked the whole way home with his shoulders hunched and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He stomped up the stairs and angrily jammed his key into the lock. When he came inside he shooed Noah away with his foot and began stripping his clothes in a rush of fury. He left a messy trail towards his bedroom.

When he looked up from the floor and saw Peter his mouth dropped open and the boxers he'd been holding fell to the floor. Peter smirked at the sight of Sylar's involintary and quickly rising erection. The nurse reached an arm out and crooked his finger in a come hither motion. Sylar nodded dumbly and stumbled forward towards Peter. He reached down and ran his finger over the tip of his erection, which was pushing into his bellybutton. Peter cleared his throat and spoke in a low sultry tone.

"Sylar, I've been a bad girl and teacher sent me to you for punishment."

He ran a hand teasingly up and down his stomach as he spoke, and spread his legs farther apart.

"What's my punishment Mr. Sylar?"

Sylar smirked and pressed a finger harshly into Peter's groin.

"How bad have you been..."

"Peyton."

Peter, now assuming the name Peyton, bit his lip and looked away in feigned nervousness.

"Very, very bad Mr. Sylar. You have to punish me real good."

Sylar smirked and reached under the skirt to grab harshly at panty encased penis he found there. Peter hissed and rocked his hips up into Sylar's grip. His erection had just started forming and he cursed his choice in panty size. He could already feel the lacey designs biting into his sensitive flesh. Sylar grabbed onto Peter's upper arms and pulled him into a standing position. He leaned forward kissed Peter chastely.

When Peter tried to deepen Sylar grabbed his chin harshly and pulled his face away.

"Ah ah, you're being punished Peyton."

Peter pouted and lowered his eyes. Sylar gently turned Peter around and urged him to lean over the bed. Peter consinteted and pulled his upper body forward, spread his legs, and presented his ass to Sylar. His upper body was pressed against the matress from just above his bellybutton to his left cheek. Peter bent his arms at the elbow and rested them lightly at his sides, his fingertips near his face.

He shivered lightly when he felt Sylar's palms press against the backs of his thighs and slide up under the skirt. He smiled into the bedspread when he felt Sylar's fingers lovingly trace over the flowery designs stitched in the lace. Sylar got to one knee to get a closer look at Peter's handy work. He ran one hand around to Peter's front and kneaded the hairless skin there and smirked.

Sylar pulled back and fliped the back of Peter's skirt up onto his back, exposing his panty clad butt to the room. Sylar pulled back and delivered a sharp slap to Peter's backside. The nurse gasped into the blankets, taken by surprise. Sylar smirked and delivered another blow. He watched in fascination as Peter's butt jiggled in the assault. He kept up a steady rain of smacks, each harder than the last.

Peter began whining and panting into the bed and clawing at the sheets. Tears prickled up in the corners of his eyes, half from embarasment and half from pain. He tried in vain to clench the muscles of his ass to keep it from jiggling but Sylar only struck him harder for it. His thighs trembled and his ankles quaked against the straps of his heels. The entirety of his butt was an angry pink color and the blood rushing there caused heat to seap through the lace. Sylar brought his hand down again but this time he rubbed lovingly across Peter's ass, his hand soaking up some of the heat there.

Tears and saliva were soaking into the blanket and Peter turned his face and sniffled. He refused to let his snot drip onto the sheets as well. He curled his lips in and rocked his hips helplessly back and forth. During the onslaut Peter's erection had grown and was now stretching the fabric of the panties to their limit. The flowery designs cut harshly into his skin and caused an unpleasant itching sensation. Sylar made gentle shushing noises and rested his palms lightly on Peter's butt.

"Shhh, it's okay Ms. Petrelli. Shhh, shh, it's okay. Are you ready for the rest of your punishment?"

Peter brough one hand back to his face and pressed a knuckle into his bottom lip. He looked through teary eyes up at Sylar and nodded his head. Sylar brought Peter's skirt back down to its proper place and helped him stand. Sylar sat down where Peter had lain before and held onto Peter's hips. He stroked his thumbs over Peter's hips and the top of his skirt before pushing him to his knees.

Peter sat in the V of Sylar's legs and looked petulantly up at him from under his lashes. Mascara was mixing with the tears running down his face and some of his lipgloss had smudged onto his cheek.

"Now, now Peyton, do as you're instructed. This uis/u punishment afterall. Now be a good girl and take the tip into your mouth."

Peter leaned forward and did as he was told. He used his tongue to press lightly into Sylar's slit and sucked lightly on his tip. Sylar brought a hand forward to tangle into Peter's hair. He flexed his hips forward once then relaxed back.

"Good girl, just keep sucking on the tip, and don't bite down unless I tell you to."

Peter sucked harder on the tip of Sylar's erection, only bobbing his head forward slightly. He focused his attention on the head like he was told. He was encouraged by Sylar's hand in his hair to let Sylar's erection slip off his tongue and against the inside of his cheek. He sucked his cheeks in and brought a hand up to run lightly across the length of Sylar that wasn't in his mouth.

"Good girl, so good...Now take me all the way. Yeah, that's it, all the way down."

Peter spread his knees farther apart and slid all the way down on Sylar's erection, stopping when his nose was buried in dark curly hair. He felt both of Sylar's hands press against the back of his head, holding him there. Then Sylar began rocking his hips in slow circles.

"Go ahead, suck Peyton."

Peter swallowed around the length in his mouth and started rocking his hips slowly into the empty space in front of him. Seconds later he felt a heavy wave of telekenesis press against his erection. He groaned around Slyar's length and the vibrations resulted in Sylar pressing the telekenetic hand down harder. Peter whined again and struggled half heartedly to escape the grip.

"Stop it! This is part of your punishment Peyton."

Peter stopped struggling and hummed in aknowledgement. Sylar used his telekenesis to pull the fabric of the panties tighter. He stroked his thumbs in slow circles through Peter's hair as he continued to rock into Peter's mouth. The nurs's throat and jaw were beginning to ache from the position but he didn't dare speak up about it. Instead he kept up his swallowing motions and tried to work up more spit.

Sylar ran his palms forward to cup Peter's cheeks and tilt his face up. He groaned at the sight of Peter's spit coating his lower face and the way Peter's lips stretched absurdly over his prick. He started pulling the panties up, and struggled only momentarily with the impediment of the garter belt and skirt.

Peter gave a long pitiful whine as the panties rose up the swell of his ass and into the seam in the back and scratched at the skin of his front. Sylar held the panties there, not pulling them up higher but not letting them go and added a series of telekenetic jabs to his erection. Peter sobbed brokenly around Sylar's erection and jerked his hips wildly in an attempt to loosen the pressure. But the struggling only pulled the fabric thighter.

Sylar watched in amusement as Peter struggled and cried. Tears ran down Peter's face and dripped into Sylar's pubic hair.

"Enough."

Sylar pulled Peter back by the hair and then dragged him up for a rough kiss. He bit harshly at Peter's lips before throwing him back against the bed. Peter sprawled back and braced his feet against the floor. The undersides of his knees hovering just a little bit over the edge of the bed. Peter started sucking on his knuckle again and was rocking his hips helplessly into the air.

Sylar put his hands on Peter's knees and ran then down, stopping when his hands pushed up the skirt and brushed against the bottom edge of the panites. Peter let his knuckle fall from his mouth and press into his chin.

"Can I...take them off Mr. Sylar?"

Sylar ran his hands under Peter's butt and pulled down the garter belt, uncliping it as he went. Next he worked down the panties and threw them to the ground. Peter let out a sigh of relief as the constricting material slid away. When he lowered his feet back to the ground his heels made a clacking noise against the floor.

Sylar smiled and nuzzled his nose against the inside of Peter's knee and then ran his nose down his thigh and into the crook of his groin. He smiled happily into Peter's skin and pulled Peter's erection down and kissed the base of his groin.

"Ooh, such a dirty girl, waxing there."

Peter hummed happily and tried to press his erection further into Sylar's hand. Sylar made a tutting noise and pulled his hand away.

"This is punishment Peyton, remember that."

Peter nodded and rested his hips back against the bed. He watch, feigning bashfulness as Sylar summoned the lube and opened it. He looked to his side and willed himself to blush as he chewed on his knuckle. He bit hard enough to draw blood when Sylar entered him without warning and clawed at the sheets with his other hand.

His heels slid across the floor, unable to gain friction as his body jerked back and forth and Sylar changed their position. Sylar stood close to the bed, his knees hitting the bed and his upper body leaning forward to hold Peter's ass off the matress. As Sylar picked up his brutal pace the backs of Peter's heels began to pick up off the ground and only the toes of his shoes were able to scramble against the floor.

He moaned and screamed against the onslaut, happily pushing up to meet Sylar's eager thrusts. Sylar tightened his grip, causing small bruses that healed second later. He breathed heavily out of his nose and kept his mouth locked shut. He dropped his head to his chest and watched in amusement as Peter's erection bobbed just as chaoticly as his thrusts. The skirt was trapped underneath of it, crumbled against Peter's groin. Smears of precum stained streaks and pools against the fabric.

Sylar Jerked Peter up and slid his hands back to wrap Peter's ankles around his lower back. The nurs's head lolled back and his mouth dropped open. Saliva slicked the entire lower half of his face making it shiney and ruining the lipgloss. Peter reached out with both hands and raked his nails down his thighs, pulling back the skirt. He held the fabric thight in his fists and tightened his legs around Sylar's back, digging his heels in to make him go faster. He opened his eyes and licked his lips, trying to look tempting.

Sylar laughed deeply in appreciation and sent a wave of telekenesis towards Peter's chest. Peter let out a choked scream when he felt the ghostly touch of telekenesis pull and twist at his nipples. Sylar kept his attention divided between Peter's chest and his groin at he let of of Peter's left ass cheek to squeeze harshly at Peter's erection.

Peter gave a high pitched whine and jerked his hips up.

"G-good, so good Sy-Sylar..."

"Mr. Sylar."

Peter bit his lip and groaned, whining pitifully when Sylar released him. He bucked up and vain and thrashed his head to the side.

"Mr. Sylar! !"

Sylar laughed again and took Peter back in his hand and gave a cruel telekenetic tug to both of Peter's nipples. The nurse continued to whine as that touch slid down across his body. It tugged playfully at his bellybutton piercing, now hidden by the skirt, and then swooped down past his balls.

Soon Peter felt it push against his opening, above Sylar's erection. He started to sob quietly, still thrusting up into Sylar's real hand. Sylar gripped harshly at Peter's thighs and straightened his back to he could watch as Peter began to stretch open wider. He forced his telekenetic probe to go deeper and widen more. The nurse let out a particularly loud cry as it struck his prostate. But Peter kept his heels on Sylar's back and his hands on his skirt.

Sylar kept up his thrusting, groaning at the difference in texture he felt. The bottom of his erection was sliding effortlessly against Peter's velvety insides and the top brushed against solid air. He bit into his lip and widened Peter further, making sure to keep the width consistant all the way back. To make it easier on himself he let the telekenetic probe stay in place when he pulled out.

Tears were running down Peter's face again, ruining his mascara further and making his face a blotchy pink color. Sylar smiled at the sight Peter made. He looked broken, used, and he still looked like he enjoyed it. The thought made Sylar happy and angry at the same time, but refused to let it break his concentration.

Peter let go of the skirt and let his hand join Sylar's. He worked himself quickly, in his haste he bumped Sylar's hand several times until Sylar got frustrated and smacked him away. The taller man concentrated on forcing Peter open just a bit wider. He could now see deep into Peter's rectum and he watched in fascination at his own prick pummling into the nurse.

Peter was sobbing uncontrollably now, his whole body shaking. He grabbed blindly at the sheets and twisted them in his clenched fists. His cries alternated from deep and shakey to loud and high pitched. Every sob encouraged Sylar to keep his pace.

"Shhhh, shhh, s-s'ok Peyton. Just...just a little wider than...than tw-two of me."

The confession drew more broken sobs from Peter. His mouth hung open and his nose burned a bright red. Sylar took a deep breath and started to work Peter's erection faster. He flicked his wrist near the tip and rubbed his thumb over the slit. Peter's cries got higher still, now sounding very much like a girl being raped. Sylar worried briefly that a neighbor would call the cops, but quickly remembered that Peter had had the bedroom soundproofed for these types of occassions.

Sylar slowed for a moment and leant forward enough to pick Peter up off the bed. The nurse floundered for a minute then wrapped his arms tightly around Sylar's shoulders. He continued to sniffle and cry into Sylar's shoulder and the taller man widened his stance and picked up the pace. Peter's skirt had pulled down over the tip of his erection and the hem was now trapped against Sylar's stomach.

He whined desperatly and clawed at Sylar's back as the scratchy material of the skirt continued to torment him. Sylar growled in return and pushed his telekenetic touch deeper. Peter cried out again, his mouth open over the curve of Sylar's shoulder. He bit down and continued to sob around the flesh as Sylar thrust into him.

Sylar stopped for a minute when Peter started to slip and bounced his back up with his arms. The sudden jaring motion caused the skirt to pull swiftly away from Peter's erection. He came with a scream and relaxed into Sylar. He continued to sniffle into Sylar's shoulder, whimpering as Sylar's rough treatment caused aftershocks.

His body was trembling with pain and pleasure and his ass felt like it was on fire. His ankles slipped from Sylar's lower back and his thighs rested heavier against Sylar's forearms. The toes of Peter's heels were just barely scraping against the ground. Sylar dug his nails into the tender flesh of Peter's ass and started moving the telekenetic probe. When he pulled out he pushed the probe deeper and when he entered he slid the probe out.

This caused a new wave of sobs to wrack Peter's body. He clung helplessly to Sylar's shoulders and moved his face to cry into the crook of Sylar's neck. A few thrusts later Sylar came. He momentarily lost control of his ability and the probe's shape and size fluctuated with each new gush of come. Peter cried out loudly, practically screaming as it tore at his insides in some places, disapeared in others, and streched him impossibly wide.

When Sylar pulled free semen poured freely out of Peter onto the floor below. He released Peter and watched in a ditatched way as the nurse crumpled back against the matress. He laid there bonelessly, sobs quaking through his body.

Sylar kept his eyes on Peter's well abused hole, admiring the way in slowly started to constrict. A small river of blood trickled out before Peter's regeneration kicked in and healed him.

When Peter's sobs slowed and his heartrate returned to normal Sylar crawled over top of him and pulled his upper body off of the matress. He hugged Peter around the shoulders, holding him tight and burying his face into the crook of his neck. It took a minute before Peter had enough control over himself to return the hug. He kissed the side of Sylar's face and wet his lips.

**I would never force you.**

"I know."

**Never. ****Never****.**

"I know Sylar I know."

**Why this?**

"You wanted to punish Mohinder for making you vulnerable. I can't let that happen. So I let you punish me instead."

Peter pretended not to notice when a single tear rolled down his neck.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	32. Chapter 32

December 31st

Laughter

3rd Person POV

Peter's selfless sex play the day before had been enough to bring Gabriel out into the open. He had been touched by the gesture overall but repremanded Peter for the premise. Peter had spent much of dinner listening to Gabriel trying to tell him off for being wreckless all while trying to seem grateful.

So Peter had assumed he'd be in for more sucking up today. But when he woke up it was to the smell of a delicious waffle breakfast and freshly brewed coffee. He tip-toed into the kitchen and peeked his head around the corner, taking a sniff of the air. Gabriel turned and smiled to Peter as he held out a plate of waffles.

The watchmaker had on a blue gringram apron around his waiste and his hair was pulled back securely with bobby pins. Peter smiled back crookedly and took the offered plate of waffles. He followed behind Gabriel to the table and took his seat. Gabriel poured him a glass of orange juice and nudged the syrup his way.

"Thank you Brei, this is amazing."

Peter took a large bite and chewed happily. He made a yum noise as he chewed for good measure. Gabriel blushed and smiled, pushing syrup around on his plate.

"I was mean to you yesterday and you were just trying to help."

Peter smiled sadly and sat his fork down.

"Brei, you don't have to apologise. I did kind of cross the line. I didn't realise until after how much of a bad idea a semi-rape fantasy was."

Gabriel twitched at the word rape, but didn't shy away from Peter. He took a deep breath and took a bite of his waffles. The two of them ate in awkward silence for a few more bites. Peter looked descretly over at Gabriel's plate and noticed that it only had a little bit of syrup on it. Peter licked his fork thoughtfully before putting it down and picking up the syrup bottle. When Sylar cut his new piece of waffle Peter thrust his arm forward and squeezed the syrup bottle.

Gabriel eyes widened in shock and his mouth dropped open as the syrup flowed. It covered his waffles entirely and creeped slowly outwards on the plate. Peter pulled the bottle back and ran his finger across the rim of the cap and then sucked happily on his finger. Gabriel looked from Peter's finger to his plate and began laughing.

It started as a soft chuckle and evolved into a long, child-like laughter. He threw his head back in his joy and held onto his stomach. Peter leaned forward and laughed along with him. Their bodies shook and trembled. All the stress of the month had built and built, and it was finally boiling over. They had had enough of the tears and stress and tension. So they laughed.

They laughed until tears ran down their cheeks and their sides burned. Peter put his hands against his jaw, trying to ease the ache unsucessfully. Gabriel held tightly to his stomach and nearly fell from his chair when he snorted. This started a new bout of hearty laughter from Peter. Gabriel struggled to right himself as he held tight to his sides.

By the time Gabriel was upright again, still snorting, Peter's laughter had taken a high tone. He leaned back in his chair and tried to regulate his breathing. He let his head fall back over the edge of the chair and hugged his stomach. Gabriel snorted a few more times before leaning forward and resting his head on his folded arms.

The two of them jerked a few times with aftershocks and tried to calm their labored breathing. Peter made a happy 'hm' noise and lolled his head forward again. Peter reached lazily towards his fork and speared himself another piece of waffle.

"Eat before they get to soggy Brei. It'd be a shame if your breakfast went to waste."

Gabriel nodded his head against his arms and sat up slowly. He used his fork to cut a soggy piece of waffle. While he brought it to his mouth syrup dripped lazily onto his pants and shirt. When he finally took a bite a small trail of syrup ran down his bottom lip and chin.

Peter took a sip of his orange juice and smiled at Gabriel over the top of his glass. He licked his lips as he put his glass back on the table. Peter finished the rest of his waffles quickly so he could watch Gabriel finish the rest of his breakfast. His chin was propped up on his palm, elbow on the table. His hair fell forward into his face and Peter bit lightly on the tip of his finger.

When Gabriel finished his last piece of waffle he licked slowly at his lips, trying to get the rest of his syrup. His tongue couldn't reach all of the syrup that had ran down his chin. He reached out for a napkin but was stopped by Peter.

The nurse got up slowly from his chair and rounded the table. He pulled back Gabriel's chair and sat down in his lap.

**This seems familiar.**

"Mmmm."

Peter draped his arms over Gabriel's shoulder and leaned in to lick the syrup away from Gabriel's chin. He painted Gabriel's lower face with kitten licks, continuing long after the syrup was gone. Gabriel's lips began to tremble, as if he wanted to say something. But Peter didn't want to ruin the moment with 'sorry's'. He pointed his tongue and ran it slowly from Gabriel's chin to his bottom lip. Then he pulled Gabriel's bottom lip into his mouth and suckled. When Peter pulled away he tugged Gabriel's lip with him, stretching it out until Gabriel leaned forward. He let it go and then pressed a chaste kiss to Gabriel's lips.

"Love you."

"I love you too."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: This is the origin story for Gabriel's eyebrow piercing. This takes place when Gabriel is 18.

Eyebrow Piercing

3rd Person POV

-Gabriel's thoughts are in italics and Sylar's are in bold.

June 3, 1995

Gabriel Gray was eightteen years old and a day. He fiddled nervously with the strap of his satchel as he wandered further into the shopping district of Queens. He stopped first at a second hand book store. When he entered the store Gabriel took a deep breath and allowed the smell of paper and must overwhelm him.

The scent of old books calmed his frazzled nerves and encouraged him to straighten up and complete his task. He handed his satchel to the store clerk and made his way into the stacks. In his pocket there was a small bundle of money he had recieved for his birthday. While browsing through shelves and shelves of used books Gabriel nervously fingered the money in his pocket, checking that it was still there.

He hadn't expected anything for his birthday. Ever since his father had walked out on them money was tight. So Gabriel had woken up the day before expecting a homemade card and a special breakfast. Instead his mother had presented him with an embossed envelope. Gabriel had instantly recognised the seal from his church. When Gabriel had opened it and removed the money his mother had explained in tears how she had pleaded to their fellow perishaners. Gabriel had been given one hundred and fifty dollars. It was the most he had every held in his hands at one time.

Gabriel had spent his entire birthday carefully planning what he was going to buy. His mother told him to save it for college but Gabriel dismissed the idea. He was the son of a watchmaker from Queens. He didn't have the money for college and his mother didn't have the capacity to live alone. So he shut out the hope of college dreams and focused on more practical things.

Books had been on the top of his list. All of the books he owned were falling apart at the bindings and losing vital pages. So he sifted through the stacks with a sense of childish joy. He ran his fingers lightly over the edges of several books, reveling in the pages. He opened a particularly worn novel and brought the centerfold to his nose and inhaled. He breathed deeply, taking in its uniqe scent and tried to imagine what its owners had been like. After running his hand thoughtfully over a few pages he decided to buy it.

Two hours later Gabriel had perused his way through the whole shop and had a small stack of books to show for it. His choices included two noir mystery novels, one worn copy of Hamlet, three Kurt Vonnegut books, one Spanish language book, and an anatomy book. His purchases were wrung up quickly and thrust hastily in a plastic bag. Gabriel frowned at the rough treatment but made no comment.

He folded the plastic bag closed gently and stowed it safely into his satchel. When Gabriel exited the store he looked back at the door longingly before he shoved his hands back in his pockets and wandered along his way. He was lost in a sea of hurried people. People were bumping his shoulders and shoving him out of their way. But he continued on in his leisurely pace and avoided eye contact with everyone.

If you'd watch where you're going instead of your feet you wouldn't get bumped so much.

Gabriel turned swiftly on his heel and looked around nervously. He saw no one looming behind him, no one who looked as if they could have just whispered in his ear. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He closed his eyes and tried to listen better to his surroundings. He dropped his head to his chest and covered his ears with his hands.

_You're in my head. Please, please be quiet._

Gabriel staid that way for a few more minutes before lowering his hands slowly back to his sides. He tugged nervously on the strap of his satchel and ducked back into the busy throng of people. He flicked his eyes back and forth between the shop windows and the ground in front of him. He took note that a new hole was developing in his sneakers but hurried past the shoe store regaurdless. For once he wanted to be selfish instead of sensible.

He craned his neck to see over the heads of the crowd and spotted a jewlery store. He cut through a small group of teenagers, keeping his eyes downcast the whole time. When he stood in front of the shop he noticed that it was more of a piercing shop than a jewlery store. He raised his hand hesitantly towards the door, his resolve crumbling. He took a haisty step back and felt a hot blush rise to his face when the teenagers laughed at him.

He grit his teeth, shook his head, and entered the store. When the door clicked shut he leaned against the cool glass in an attempt to calm himself. He flicked his eyes nervously from side to side, taking in the shop. Gabriel heard a faint ticking buzzing in his ears and his eye was drawn to a flickering flourescent light. He stared at it for a moment and tilted his head about searching for the source of the tick. He licked his lips nervously and shuffled further into the store once he realised he couldn't pinpoint the source of the tick.

He perused through cases of barbells, hoops, and dangling piercing pieces. Some were locked in cases and others were clipped into plastic squares and just sitting on spindel displays. Gabriel wrapped his arms around himself and tried to decide what he wanted.

_Can't pierce my ear or my bellybutton, I already get made fun of enough. So...that leaves my eyebrow, tongue,...or nipple._

Gabriel shook his head quickly from side to side several times and turned resolutly away from the case he'd been looking at.

_Nipple rings are out of the question. And a tongue piercing would be really difficult to hide. And food would get in it and all the germs in my saliva would fester in the wound...eww, no tongue piercings._

Gabriel nodded once to himself and craned his neck over the shelves to look for the shop owner. He spotted a heavily tattooed and pierced man near the back of the store, reading a magazine. The shop owner had a mohawk, but it was loose and hanging to the side instead of standing on end. Gabriel walked as quietly as he could to the counter, slightly frightened of the man. He stood nervously at the counter and plucked nervously at his satchel strap.

He wondered if he should clear his throat but decided to just wait until he was noticed. He continued to stand there awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The shop clerk flipped slowly to a new page, licking his finger to do so. Gabriel cringed and then flicked his eyes back to his feet.

"You lost kid?"

Gabriel looked up with a start and opened his mouth several times, floundering for a response. The clerk smirked at him and turned back to his magazine. Gabriel grit his teeth, took a deep breath and looked resolutely towards the clerk.

"I want to get my eyebrow pierced. What would you reccommend?"

The clerk raised an eyebrow and closed his magazine. He stood and looked Gabriel over, sizing him up. Gabriel suddenly felt ashamed by his choice of clothes, a Hershey Bar novelty tee, pressed khaki pants, and a dark gray cardigan. He could tell the clerk was internally mocking him, but he stood firm and hoped for the best.

_Don't wuss out now Gabriel, just stick it out and get a piercing._

"For you? Hm...start out with a metal barbell, nothing fancy. And when it heals up switch to a bioplast barbell. I have a large selection over there. The starters are behind the counter. I'll set you up when you get back."

He leaned over the counter just enough to point to the far left of the store. Gabriel nodded and walked to where he was told, keeping his back straight and face up. The bioplast pieces were stored underneath of the flickering light and Gabriel supressed a groan as the ticking grew louder. He looked up at the light and wondered what could possibly cause a light to tick. When he felt the eyes of the clerk on him he swiftly turned his attention back to the cases.

He scanned through the large selection, mentally crossing off anything neon or pink. Next he decided against anything glittery or with star decals. That left him with solid colors and pieces that had dice on the ends instead of balls.

Dice aren't really your thing.

Gabriel looked over at the clerk even though he knew that wasn't the source of the comment.

"Shh, what do you know?"

He looked back at the clerk to make sure he hadn't been overheard. He turned his attention back to the cases and decided on a simple clear barbell. He looked it over, flipping the package over in his hands, as he walked to the counter. His closer inspection revealed it to be a glow in the dark barbell. It wasn't what he particularly wanted but he didn't want to make a fool of himself by turning on his heel and hurrying away.

He exhaled slowly as he placed his purchase on the counter. The clerk smirked again but said nothing as he scanned the item.

"Iron, titanium, gold, or silver?"

Gabriel looked up sharply.

"For what?"

"The starter kid, what type of metal for the starter?"

"Oh...iron I guess."

"Balls, cones, or cubes?"

"...Balls."

The clerk nodded and carelessly tossed a iron starter barbell onto the counter next to the glowing one. He rolled his neck around lazily and then quickly punched numbers into the cash register.

"Your total will be $35.50, cash or credit kid?"

Gabriel pulled out his birthday money and paid the clerk as quickly as possible. He declined a bag and hurried away from the store, shoving the change and the barbells into his pants pocket.

Once he returned to the hustle and bustle of the streets he felt more secure about himself. In the shop he had faced one on one judgement, outside people were too busy going places to pay him any attention. He turned his attention back to his feet and shuffled home with a smile on his face.

"Gabriel, my little angel, you're hooommmeee!"

Virginia hastily threw down her dishtowel and hurried towards the living room. As soon as she was able she wrapped her arms tightly around Gabriel and squeezed. Gabriel returned the hug, curling his shoulders and arms around Virginia as much as he could. They rocked side to side for a minute before Virginia finally pulled back. She then brought her hands up to cup Gabriel's cheeks.

"And what did you do today Gabriel?"

"Oh...I took a long walk and bought some books."

"Didn't spend all your money in once place did you Gabriel?"

Gabriel swallowed nervously and fought the blush creeping up onto his cheeks.

"No mom, I didn't."

Virginia nodded happily and wandered back to the kitchen and resumed doing the dishes. Gabriel watched her quietly from the living room for a moment before heading to his room to put away his purchases. His books he put away neating in shelves, organised alphabeticly, but left the anatomy book on his desk. Then he pulled his barbells from his pocket and laid them on top of the book. He stood back and shifted his weight from foot to foot, deciding how to proceed.

_I'll have to pierce it later. I can probably get a sewing needle from mom's kit after she goes to bed. Then I can do it in the bathroom, over the sink, and sleep with it in. Mom leaves early tomorrow for a book club meeting so I can probably stay out of sight until she leaves._

Gabriel let out a long breath through his nose, straightened the book, and then left his room. He would wait until his mother went to bed to pierce his eyebrow.

Virginia had gone to bed a half hour ago. With that in mind Gabriel took a deep, centering, breath and quietly snuck out of his room. He tip toed into the living room and over to the lounge chair. Next to that chair was a small wicker basket containing spools of thread, scraps of fabric, buttons, and needles. Gabriel kneeled down and looked nervously over his shoulder at his mother's bedroom door.

After reassuring himself that it was shut tight, Gabriel turned his attention back to the sewing basket and pulled out the case holding the sewing needles. He pried open the case and ran his fingers across the needles, all evenly spaced through velvety blue material. They were arranged by size and although Gabriel was tempted to pull out the lace needle, he knew he would need the denim one. It was the thickest one his mother owned and it was needle closest in size to the thinnest part of the barbell.

With shaking fingers he pulled out the denim needle and out the case back into the basket. He clutched it tightly in his fist as he grabbed ice from the freezer and headed to the bathroom. For a long while Gabriel simply stared at his reflection. He turned his head in different directions and tried to visualise what he would look like. He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest.

Next he pulled the iron barbell from his pocket and laid it on the counter. He wrapped the ice in a washcloth and held it to his head as he poured some rubbing alcohol into a papercup. He dropped the needle into the cup and waited nervously for his eyebrow to numb.

Soon the ice started to melt and cold rivlets of water began to trickle into Gabriel's eye. Gabriel took a shuddering breath and dropped the washcloth to the sink. He pulled the needle from the cup and shook it dry.

Gabriel ran his finger lightly across his brow, savoring the look of it unscarred. He inhaled deeply and pinched at the end of his eyebrow, pulling out the skin. He jammed the needle into his outstretched skin, letting out a long groan of pain when it poked through. He let go of his skin and pressed his shakey palms onto the mirror. Tears rolled down his cheeks and his breathing picked up. He tried to regulate his breathing and calm himself.

_It's not that bad, you've had worse. Go through with it._

You're more afraid of mommy being mad aren't you?

"Shut up. Just shut up!"

Gabriel gasped and clamped his hands over his mouth. He looked nervously towards the door, heedless of the blood dripping down his face, and peeked around the corner of the bathroom door. Virginia had not awoken, so Gabriel tried to relax.

He shut the door and leaned against it, then slid slowly down until he was sitting on the floor. He brought his hand up and poked gently at the needle. He noted that the numbing effect of the ice was wearing off and drug himself back up and to the sink. He held tightly to the rim of the sink and looked at the needle.

_Here goes._

Gabriel carefully pulled the iron barbell from the package and unscrewed the top ball. He leaned in close to the mirror, standing on his toes and curving his back, so he could lean in closer. Carefully he removed the needle and gently pushed the barbell into the new hole. Gabriel eased back off of his toes and screwed the top ball back into place before wiping the skin with some alcohol.

"There, all done."

He tilted his head again, trying to catch the light on the iron.

Nicely done.

Gabriel pressed his fingers into the barbell and whimpered. He let out a shuddering breath and clicked the lights off. He stood there, in the dark, for several minutes, trying to feel alone with his new decision.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	34. Chapter 34

Summary: Peter relives a treasured childhood memory and Gabriel sees to it that it stays precious.

Food Dye

3rd Person POV

As a child, Peter had conducted his fair share of practical jokes. Nothining harmful, nothing that would make someone cry, and almost all of them involved Nathan. It was still painful to reminise about those memories, but Peter was making an effort to move on. So the previous night had been spent with Gabriel, hunched over Chinese take-out and beer, all to the soundtrack of Peter's childhood.

The watchmaker had been a good sport about it all. He smiled and 'hmed' at the appropriate places and tried his hardest to keep the look of absolute guilt off of his face. Peter had worked his way through tails of Nathan teaching him self defense all the way down to Nathan yelling at him for breaking a vase. When Peter's chopsticks were scraping the bottom of an empty container the nurse had started crying quietly over a prank he had pulled on Nathan just before his first date with Heidi.

Peter had looked Gabriel straight in the face and rambled on about how he'd poured green dye in Nathan's hand lotion the night before the date. _"I wanted him to be a gentleman to her, ya know? I liked her a lot and I was worried he'd do something stupid."_

So Peter had pured dye in the lotion in hopes that Nathan would 'rub one out' before his date. Apperantly he had and shortly after he'd given Peter an earful.

_"He yelled at me soooo much. He screamed until it was time to go get Heidi. Then he gave me a big hug, picked me up off the floor. I was so damn short...he told me 'thank you'. Nathan...Nathan thanked me."_

After that admission Peter had crumpled in on himself, shaking quietly with tears running down his face. Gabriel had watched in awe as a few stray dropped splashed onto his rice container and rolled like little beads down to the table. That night Gabriel had carried Peter to bed and was torn between the desperate urge to hug and comfort and the desire to give Peter the space he needed. But it was Peter that reached for him, like a needy child, in the night and Gabriel fell asleep with the nurse tucked carefully into his arms.

Now Gabriel was sitting awake, his body turned on the matress to watch Peter sleep.

_He looks so peaceful._

bWake him up./b

_No, Sylar he needs his sleep._

bWe went to bed at nine, just wake him up./b

_That wouldn't be very nice._

bThen wake him up nice./b

Gabriel's face brightened and a smile tugged at his lips at Sylar's suggestion. He eased himself off the bed as gently as possible, still not wanting to wake Peter. With a spring in his step Gabriel hurried to the kitchen and began riffling through the cabniets, looking for food dye. When he found it he turned the small drop bottle over in his hands smiling.

bYou're not...are you?/b

_I am, kind of._

bI'm so proud of you Gabriel. Just...just give me a minute/b.

The statement had been bogged down by fake crying and Gabriel huffed angrily.

"If I could hit you..."

In response Sylar made his fake sobs louder before they tappered off into a laugh. Gabriel tried his best to ignore Sylar as he pulled out his cleaning gloves and snapped them on. He tip toed quetly back to the bedroom, straining his ears to listen in on Peter's heartbeat and breathing.

_Good, still asleep._

Gabriel cautiously edged his way to the end table and unscrewed the cap of a lotion bottle. He smiled appreciativly when he noticed it was almost empty.

_No need for waste._

He emptied the green food dye into the lotion bottle and used a small thread of telekenesis to stir the contents together. Once he was satisfied that everything had mixed properly he sat the bottle back on the table and tried to ease Peter onto his back. He received a few sleepy grumbles but the nurse remained asleep through the move.

Gabriel sucked in a breath and held it as he pinched the sides of Peter's sleep pants and edged them down. He stopped pulling when they were at mid-thigh. Gabriel briefly debated pulling down the boxers as well but decided against it. He didn't want to risk Peter waking up too soon. He breathed out slowly as he gently pulled Peter from his boxers. The nurse had just started to take on a swell of appreciation and Gabriel bit his lip to contain a giggle.

Gabriel poured some of the dyed lotion onto his hand and started stroking Peter's erection slowly. He was hoping he could rub a decent amount of dye into the skin before Peter woke up. Gabriel bit his lip in concentration as he worked the flesh in his hands. He'd never touched Peter this way and it made him nervous. He barely touchedhimself this way and the thought of hurting Peter or ruining the surprise upset him.

bYou're doing fine Gabriel. If you really want to dye his skin, get a little more lotion. Yeah...now squeeze a little harder. When you're ready for him to wake up start twisting your grip near the head. And press your thumb into his slit, he likes that./b

Gabriel nodded and did his best to follow the instructions. By now Peter was squirming and keening in his sleep. The watchmaker watched in awe as a soft blush began to creep along Peter's cheeks and down his neck. Gabriel licked his lips and started twisting his wrist like Sylar had told him to. That drew a feminine whine from Peter and caused his toes to curl. Gabriel did it again, encouraged by the response.

He brought his focus back to Peter's erection, now an unusual shade of green. Gabriel tried and failed to hold back a laugh at the color contrast. The dark red of Peter's blood was barely visible from underneath the dreen dye. The laugh is what finally pulls Peter from his sleep.

He comes to with a breathy gasp, his mouth falling open, hooked down at one side.

"G-Gabriel?"

The watchmaker nodded bashfully and keeps his blushy face down, focusing on his task. He hears Peter groan happily and turn his head to the side. Gabriel bit his lips and slipped on hand inbetween his legs to cup himself over his sleep pants. He pressed his thighs together tightly and rocked gently in sync with Peter. His breathing began to pick up and he started loosing focus.

bGabriel, keep it up./b

Gabriel nodded to himself and pressed a finger to Peter's slit, applying pressure before running his finger in a circular motion over the head.

bHere it comes./b

Gabriel made a 'ugh' noise and ran his hand down Peter's erection and pressed it flat against the nurse's belly. Peter moaned and clutched desperatly at the sheets as he came. Ribbons of come shot out and striped his tee-shirt. He contined rocking his hips up, enjoying the gentle pressure of Gabriel's hand pressing into him.

"Hmmmmm...g'mornin'."

"Good morning Peter."

Gabriel pulled his hands up and striped off the gloves and threw them onto the endtable. He clamped his thighs tighter and rubbed then against eachother. He tried to keep his rocking hips in sync with Peter's breathing, which was just beginning to even out. Gabriel rolled his lips inward over his teeth and let his head fall back.

It was Peter's turn to watch in awe as a blush spread along Gabriel's cheeks. He moved his gaze down, focusing on Gabriel's rocking hips. He licked his lips and smiled mischeviously before reaching out and working his hand inbetween Gabriel's thighs. One press and wiggle of the fingers is all it takes for Gabriel to let out a shaking breath and come. His thighs slide apart and his hips buck franticly into Peter's questing hand. The watchmaker flops back onto the bed next to Peter, trying his hardest to enjoy the afterglow and ignore the dampness spreading though his pants.

Peter gave a quick pat to Gabriel's groin and then nuzzled his nose into Gabriel's neck.

_You'll have to be bashful in the hospital bathroom today._

"Hm?"

Peter inhaled deeply, still enjoying his own afterglow. When he exhaled, the breath tickling Gabriel's neck, he realised what Gabriel had meant. He struggled to prop himself up and looked down at his groin in shock.

"It's green!"

bIt's ours./b

Peter covered his face with his hands and laughed.

A/N: This fic is suppose to take place early on in the Peter/Gabriel/Sylar relationship. The relationship origin story is a doosey, it's going to have parts and I'm still working on it.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	35. Chapter 35

Desire

3rd Person POV

Gabriel took a deep breath and relaxed into the pallet on the floor. He rolled his shoulders, showing off his smooth back for Peter. The low, candle lighting shifted off the planes of his back and shoulders creating deep swooping shadows. Peter settled himself lightly on the backs of Gabriel's thighs and ran his hands slowly up Gabriel's back. The nurse leaned forward and pressed a light kiss inbetween the shoulderblades. He brought his head forward and pressed his nose into the skin there, just breathing.

Gabriel concentrated on his breathing, letting his limbs grow heavy and his vision blur. He stayed absolutely still as Peter drew back, his lips dragging across his skin. He stayed still while Peter kneaded at his spine and stroked his thumbs over his tailbone.

"Are you ready Brei?"

Gabriel nodded once, sluggishly, into the fabric of his pillow. Peter leaned to the side and picked up a bottle of ink and a fountain pin. He sucked on the point of it before dipping it into the ink bottle and stirring. When he pulled the pen free a single drop of ink splashed into Gabriel's lower back. The drop shone in the candle light before seeping into Gabriel's skin. There were spidery black veins creeping into his skin that faded into a sickly blue before disapearing. When the rest of the ink seeped in it formed a smokey black cloud near his spine.

Peter resumed kneading Gabriel's back, pressing his fingers into the skin and muscle working the knots loose. A murmer of appreciation was absorbed by the pillow when Peter loosened a particularly large kink. He cocked his head to the side and watched as the ink swirled and danced across the canvas of Gabriel's back. It morphed into vauge shapes before stretching out again into a long thick line that rose over his spine. After sinking back into the middle of his back it formed back into a ball and began to quiver around the edges.

"Stop trying to force it. Just...relax..."

Peter's finger's stopped pressing and he pulled his palms back to rest lightly on the swell of Gabriel's ass. He relaxed his face and tried to match his breathing with his lover's. As the tension melted from his frame the ink began to slow it's frantic dance. The quakes and tremors around the ink's edges began to smooth and darken. Peter watched in awe as the smokey blob tightened and formed into a face.

Gabriel curled his fingers around the edge of his pillow and smiled. A happy glow settled on his face and he closed his eyes sleepily. In the center of his back a face had formed. It was subtly divided, like shadows playing across the planes of a statue. One side held the look of a dangerous man and the other displayed a light and innocent man.

Peter leaned forward slowly and pressed a kiss to the tattoo. He held his lips there as the ink began to fade and seep back into his skin. When he pulled away he saw only wispy trendles of ink whorling away and deeper into the skin.

Peter brought himself further up onto Gabriel and draped himself across his back. He rested his lips against the crook of Gabriel's neck and brought his palms to the skin of Gabriel's sides. His fingers dug under the watchmaker lightly, the tips just barely brushing dark chest hair.

When the candles were half their original size, wax dripping messily to the table, Noah padded into the living room. In his haste to see his owners he knocked aside the bottle of ink. It spilled out and seeped into the pallet, staining it a dark black. And for once Gabriel couldn't bring himself to care about the mess.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	36. Chapter 36

A Sylar/Luke fic

Summary: A motel owner rapes Luke and Sylar rushes in to save the day, and kill the owner.

This is **NOT**** a part of the Settled World Verse, this is an independant fic in response to a kink meme prompt.**

**What's Mine**

3rd Person POV  


In the center of the room, inbetween two twin size matresses, was a bound and gagged man. He had a hairy pot belly and a shiney balding head. On one meaty hand there was an acclection of gaudy gold rings. He was sweating profusly and bleeding heavily from his nose.

Sylar paced slow circles around the man while Luke trembled and whimpered on one of the beds. His knees were drawn tight to his chest and his pants were still unbottoned and crooked around his waiste. Sylar cast a wairy glance at the teen before turning his attention back to the motel owner. He sneered maliciously before clenching his fists.

The owner, Mr. Finch, leaned forward slightly and Luke let out a pathetic sob at the motion. In response Sylar lashed out, cutting a shallow slice into Finch's arm with telekenesis. He hissed slightly into his cloth gag, but continued to look petulantly up at Sylar. The killer smirked and crouched down, staring into Mr. Finch's eyes.

"Right there," Sylar paused to press a single finger into the wound harshly, "is a beautiful work of genetic ingenuity. An artery, if I cut that you'll bleed to death in two seconds."

He pressed into the wound again scratching at it when he pulled away.

"Tick tock Mr. Finch."

Sylar stood up again, taking the time to stretch his neck and crack his knuckles. He glared at Finch in warning before crossing the empty space to Luke's side. Then he reached out slowly and smoothed Luke's hair back. He leaned forward slowly and pressed his forehead to Luke's, just breathing with him for a few moments. When Luke's whimpering subsided some he tipped his head and ran his nose along  
Luke's face to the shell of his ear. Then he spoke quietly, his lips just barely brushing the shell of Luke's ear as he spoke.

"In the end...who gets this done?"

Luke's lips quivered, two answers balancing on the tip of his tongue. He looked over Sylar's hunched form to the sweating man on the floor.

"You do Sylar."

The killer smiles against Luke's ear and pulls away, eager to start. Finch tries in vain to rock back from Sylar's looming form, but it unsuccessful. He struggles to comprehend the invisible force holding him, the same on that cut his arm earlier. Sylar tapped a finger to his lips in mock thought. And then it began.

Luke watched on in awe as Sylar meticulously cut into Finch's stomach. The cuts were all the same length and distance apart. When he paused to consider another location there was a bloodly ladder across the man's stomach all across the swell of his potbelly. Sylar grimaced at the sight of short curly hairs that had been cut during the onslaut, not liking how they marred the bright red blood rolling lazily down his stomach.

Luke sniffled and worked his fingers into the fabric of his shirt. This renewed Sylar's vigor, causing him to strike at the man's shoulders and upper arms. Finch groaned and screamed helplessly into his gag as Sylar torn away strips of skin from both areas. He worked little by little, digging deeper each time until he reached the bone.

He knew that Finch would pass out soon from bloodloss and decided to get as much torture in as he could before that point. So in rapid succession he snapped all of the owner's fingers, careful to ensure that the breaks were jagged. Finch passed out from shock and Sylar took this chance to look back at Luke and smile to him.

"It's almost over Luke."

Sylar raised his foot and pressed his heel harshly into Finch's genitals. A long twist of his heel roused the man from his unconscious state. He whimpered pitifully into his gag and tried feebly to shift away from Sylar's foot.

"Ah, ah, ah, you're already in enough trouble Mr. Finch."

He pressed his heel in deeper, enjoying the whimpering he received in return.

"You see Mr. Finch, I can be a rather understanding induvidual. As pathetic as you are, you have nothing of value to me. You're inconcequenial, insignificant. That was the _only _thing working in favor of your life once I decided to sleep here. But then you had to go and touch what was mine."

Sylar pulled his foot back and smashed it down against Finch's genitals and ground in his heel.

"Big mistake."

Sylar made sure to keep the pressure up as he dragged his foot away. By now Finch's body was quaking with tremors of pain, his tears mixed with sweat and flecks of blood. Sylar stood to his full height and sneered down at Finch one last time.

Luke slowly lowered his legs back to the bed as he watched Sylar detatch Finch's penis and then fling it across the room. The cut had been sloppy, the skin tearing unevenly and stretching to it's limit before snapping away. Finch went into convulsions and watched through darkening vision as Sylar speared his bloody penis on a room decoration near the door.

Luke took a deep calming breath and Sylar lifted him gently and tucked him to his body. Luke blushed in embarassment at the bridal style hold but knew he was in no condition to argue. There was still a small stream of blood still leaking from him and staining the seat of his pants.

"Another rule to follow Luke, never try to take something from someone more powerful than you. What's mine is mine for a reason, and I don't like to share."

"Thank you."

Luke craned his neck up and kissed the corner of Sylar's mouth. A dangerous smile curled at Sylar's lip. Luke was his now.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	37. Chapter 37

Good Morning

3rd Person POV

Sylar flexed his arms and clenched his fists, testing the give of the coarse rope he's tied in. The rope groans but doesn't give. His body is spread eagle across the matress, his feet tied just as firmly to the bottom bed posts. Sitting on his stomach was Peter, looking all too pleased with himself. The nurse smirked and rolled his hips back and forth over Sylar's stomach, gently bringing his erection around. He let out a sigh and lowered himself onto Sylar so that his cheek was pressed into his lover's.

The dulcet tones of Bobby Darin were rolling out of the speakers, 'Beyond the Sea', their favorite. Over that they could pick out the little creaks and groans of the bed's slow rocking motion. Peter's face flushed a delicate pink color, spreading across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Sylar shivered at the feel of Peter's warm breath gliding past his ear. He rocked his hips up, matching Peter's slow pace. ****

More.  
  
More what?  
**  
Anything.  
**  
Peter huffed and raised himself up, bracing his palms on the bed just below the curve of Sylar's underarms.

"Be patient."

Sylar sneered and turned his nose up at the nurse, showing his displeasure. Peter ignored the gesture and rolled his neck slowly, working out the kinks and sighing as the good feeling washed over him. Below him Sylar's muscles began to twitch and bunch in anxiety.

"Just...relax."

Peter took a deep breath and braced his palms on Sylar's stomach and slowly started to run them up towards his chest and over his nipples.

"I'll make you feel good I swear."

Sylar huffs and thunks his head back against the pillow, his eyes focusing on the ceiling. The childish response does nothing to deter Peter, and the nurse continues to knead his fingers into the haired flesh of Sylar's chest. The cat like motions lull Sylar into a false sense of security that doesn't last. Just as Slar relaxes enough to loosen the muscles of his arms, Peter strikes.

He claws harshly down the length of Sylar's chest drawing blood and an angry hiss. The nurse watches in awe as little swells of blood pool up out of the cuts and trickle down Sylar's sides. He presses his palms reverantly against the torn flesh and smiles at the feel of the skin knitting back together.

"C'mon Peter. _Do_ something. Make it good."

Peter makes a 'tch' noise and rocks up onto his haunches, hovering over Sylar's groin.

"Don't make it sound like we're in a porno. It's gross."

Sylar grins lecherously and tries in vain to raise his hips enough to rock into Peter.

"Then shut me up Petrelli."

The taunt rolls out as a smug challange, daring Peter to take action. The nurse smiles coyly down at Sylar and lowers himself back onto Sylar's groin. He rocks his hips in gentle circles back and forth, pressing down just enough to give relief but not enough to make Sylar happy.

Sylar's arms twitch and strain in his bonds and Peter can see him itching to pull free. The nurse lets out a soft appreciative hum and slowly  
brings his body flush against Sylar's. His hands run gently up Sylar's arms, the touch light and ticklish. The muscles in Sylar's arm pushed against the skin and quivered under the gentle onslaut.

"Ah ah ah, Sylar. Be a good boy."  
**  
What was that about not sounding like a porno? **

Be good.

Sylar sighed and let the tension flow out of his body, relaxing into the matress and away from Peter's playful hips. The mischevous smile he gets in return is enough to put Sylar at ease. That smile always means good things.

The next thing he feels is a warm, soft cheek, pressing into his chest and dainty fingers curling around his hipbones. Next the cool whispers of telekenesis began roaming across his body, from nipples to thighs, front and back. It came in great swooping waves and lashes, teasing his skin. ****

S'nice...different, but nice.  
  
Peter refrained from responding, fearing that a quip would ruin the moment. Instead he turned his head and placed a lingering kiss to Sylar's breastbone, and then bit down. The sharp intake of breath and involintary intake of breath encouraged Peter to nibble like a cat before soothing the hurt with quick swipes of his tongue. His finger's dug further into Sylar's hips, anchoring him as his hips jerked down in harsh thrusts. Peter arched his back and locked his arms in place, his head thrown back.

Sylar looked down at his hips and groaned. A fresh wave of desire crashed through him at the sight of Peter's stomach stretched taught, and his hips pressed tighly against his own. The nurse's thighs locked tighter around the outside of Sylar's. The extreme curve of his spine made it difficult to rut and stay and place, but Peter found it well worth the effort.

The friction between the two of them was just this side of painful and Sylar loved it. Peter tossed his head back and let his mouth drop open. He knew a blush had spread across his cheeks, Sylar's favorite look on him, so he licked his lips and shook out his hair. Sylar groaned and bucked up against Peter as best as he was able and tried in vain to press his feet into the matress for more leverage. Despite Peter's previous warning Sylar broke the bonds holding his ankles and surged up against his lover.

Peter gasped as his arms gave out. When he collapsed his chin collided painfully with Sylar's chest and knocked his teeth together with a large clack.

"Damn it Sylar!"

Sylar grinned planted his feet firmly against the bed and locked his thighs tightly against Peter's hips. Peter snarled at Sylar but decided not to move. He wanted to get off as much as Sylar did and he knew that if he pouted too much Sylar would just pull away and jack off onto his face. So he snarled instead and bit down on Sylar's nipple, tearing the delicate flash and drawing blood.  
Peter dug his toes into the sheets sucked harshly on Sylar's nipple, enjoying the metallic tang of blood curling around his tongue. Sylar yanked once on his bonds and the rope bit and tore at the delicate flesh of his wrists. Peter released Sylar's nipple and dug his claws into Sylar's hips hard enough to draw blood.

Peter dug the balls of his feet into the bed harder and raked his nails up Sylar's sides before reaching up to curl them around Sylar's bonds. They bucked against eachother in a frenzy, all slapping skin and harsh hipbones.  
**  
Do it. **

Peter smiled into Sylar's chest and tugged down on the bonds, ripping more of Sylar's flesh. Sylar growled and tossed his head from side to side as the rush of orgasm welled up inside him along side the tingle of his healing. His come rushed out and splashed against Peter's thighs and groin before wicking away onto his own thighs and the sheets below him.

He arched his back and telekeneticly released his wrists, letting them flop back to the bed with a thud. He smiled cockily to himself as Peter continued to rut and grind against him. The nurse's breath came out in needy pants, the warm puffs of air teasing Sylar's nipple. A small trickle of drool made its way onto Sylar's chest in the midst of a needy whine.

Sylarrrrrr.

Sylar made a 'tch' noise and brought his hands down to curl harshly around Peter's hipbones.

Keep whinin' Petrelli.

Peter rolled his eyes up to try and catch a look at Sylar's face but the angle was all wrong. So he slid his eyes shut and played up his desperation. He wriggled against Sylar's grip and began whimpering and keening into Sylar's chest.

That's it. Keep it up.

Peter felt a thin, unrelenting force press against his ass and force it's way inside of him. Sylar aimed a few concise jabs at his prostate, harsh and unrelenting. Peter's new whines were genuine and his wriggling became uncontrollable. The muscles of his tighs twitched and quivered as Sylar changed the telekenetic touches to something almost ticklish.

"Uh! Sylar! Syyyy...S-Sylar!"

The reformed killer laughed once, a harsh cruel sound that cut through the Darin CD still playing in the background. He readjusted his grip and pulled Peter onto his knees and forced his arms out to the sides, as if he was balancing. Peter dropped his head to his chest and watched as Sylar telekeneticly forced the opening of his urethra wider. A bolt of panic shot through Peter, gripping his chest and clenching his throat. But it went as soon as it came and the feeling of panic was pushed aside by the feel of his orgasm tearing through him.

When the last of his come had spilled out onto Sylar's stomach, the taller man dropped him. And for the second time that night Peter's chin crashed painfully into Sylar's chest.

They laid together in silence, Peter's harsh breathing drowning out the music coming from the speakers. The cooling come felt gross against his stomach and his jaw still twinged from his abrupt landing, and just as Peter moved to raise himself up Sylar's hand began threading through his hair.

"Good Morning Peter."

"G'Morning Sylar."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	38. Chapter 38

It's All Chemical

Summary: Gabriel explains how his power works.

3rd Person POV

"Okay so how exactly did you get Intuitive Apptitude _and _Empathetic Mimicy?"

Gabriel sighed and pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"The Empathetic Mimicry is a subset of my Ituitive Apptitude. It's like love. In it's most basic form it's two brains processing pheremones and adrenaline that the two people give off naturally. Love occurs when two sets of uniqe chemical set ups 'like' eachother. With me so far?"

"Yeah..."

"From there the brain will eventually form new synaptic pathways. These new pathways wire the brain to crave the pheremone cocktail given off by the other person. It works the same way as a drug addiction, if that person isn't close your endorphin levels go down and you feel sad or lonely."

"Alright..."

"My Empathy works the same way. My Intuitive Apptitude recognises the chemical signatures given off by other evolved humans and, circumstances permitting, my brain will wire up new synaptic pathways. From there it will begin producing new chemicals to match the ones it likes."

"Circumstances permitting?"

Gabriel smiled and put his cheek in his hand, his elbow propted against the table.

"Every brain and chemical set up is different. Some are more compatable than others. Given enough time and effort I could gain everyone's ability."

"Then how come I gain abilities instantly?"

"Your chemical makeup is very pliable."

"Pliable?"

"Hm, like chocolate. It goes with every other sweet out there."

Peter couldn't remember laughing harder at any other biology lecture.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	39. Chapter 39

Title: Long Day

Summary: After a long day at work Peter and Sylar want a little relaxing lovin'.

At six a.m., a bus clipped a curb and fell on its side and caused a two small pile ups and one heartattack. Peter and Hesan weren't the first on the scene, they arrived an hour and a half later, and it was still being cleaned up. They had rushed into action, working elbow deep in blood and twisted metal until around ten o'clock. After his first return trip from the hospital Peter had spotted Sylar meandering his way through the crowd wearing a suit and tie.

He'd made a quick call and discovered that the bus had tipped when the driver had manifested. Noah had been short with him on the details and when he had tried to reach Sylar, Noah had childishly held the phone in the air and pushed Sylar's face away. Peter had hoped that he'd be able to get a more desicive answer once he got home. But until then he had ran franticly from person to person, suturing, compressing, and otherwise aiding until his boss had ordered he take a break.

After his break, which he haggled down from an hour to just a half, he was sent out again to a domestic disturbance. The boyfriend was locked outside and screaming when he arrived. He got to see a cop tackle him out of his peripheral vision before he edged inside and tended to the girl. She had smiled at him through all the tears and blood, even stretching the skin of her busted lip to do so. Hesan said it was good she was smiling, but Peter still felt bad about the lip. He was having trouble maintaining that fine line between comforting and charming. Hesan said that he could have worse problems.

And so when Peter trugged up the stairs to his apartment he hoped Sylar would be there, or Gabriel, so he could collapse into a warm body and snuggle his woes away. His key scraped over the lock in a few feeble misses before he finally got it inside. He heard Noah bark and pant from the other side of the door and smiled.

"Almost home boy."

Peter pushed the door open and shuffled inside, toeing Noah away while sliding his messanger bag to the floor. He closed his eyes and smiled dreamily at the sound of it thunking against the ground.

"Honey I'm home."

Instead of an enthusiastic greeting or a snarky comment, he got a snore in response. Sylar was sprawled across the couch, drooling onto an armrest. Peter shuffled forward and debated the best way to wake the other man. If it had been Gabriel he would have just gotten a blanket and covered him, but the careless position he was sprawled in told Peter it was Sylar on the couch. He chewed on his lip and stiffled a yawn, then poked him on the nose. He got a garbled snort, but Sylar didn't wake.

"Syyyyyllllaaarrrrrrr."

Peter tapped his finger against Sylar's lips, nonpulsed by the slobber, and then pinched his bottom lip. Sylar fidgeted in his sleep and whined around his grip. Peter frowned and tugged harder at Sylar's lip. The taller man awoke with a jerk and a slurred curse.

"Whaa?!"

Peter smirked down at Sylar and tugged once more at his lip before letting it go and turning to flop down onto the couch. He kicked off his shoes and settled back against Sylar's stomach, intent on getting comfortable.

"What the hell Petrelli?! I was taking a nap."

"Hm, and drooling all over my couch. Your other side would be devestated."

Sylar snorted and jerkily twisted himself around onto his back, pushing Peter to the floor in the process. The nurse sighed in aggitation but remained on the floor. He brought one knee up and rested his chin there.

"So you and Noah were there. What happened exactly?"

Sylar stretched and wiggled his toes, settling himself in.

"The bus driver manifested. He sucked all the noise out of the bus and then crashed it in surprise. He thought he'd gone deaf."

Peter frowned against his knee.

"Sucked the noise...what kind of ability..."

"Not everyone gets to be as good as us Peter, someone has to get the short end of the stick."

The nurse smiled and turned. He watched as Sylar's eyes drifted shut and his mouth opened slightly. Peter smiled pressed his head forward, nuzzling into Sylar's side.

Do me?

Sylar's eyes snapped open and his hand shot down to tangle into Peter's hair.

With a skirt and panties?

No, with your dick.

Sylar pulled away from Peter and sat up. His face was twisted into an angry scowl but his eyes were sparkling with delight.

"You know what I mean Petrelli."

Peter sighed and crawled forward on his knees until his nose was pressed into Sylar's thigh.

"M'tired Sylar. Can't we just suck each other off and bask in the afterglow?"

"Can I come on your face?"

S'fine.

Peter smiled dreamily as Sylar hoisted him up and laid him back against the couch cushions. He shut his eyes and raised his hips gently as Sylar tugged down his jeans and tossed them aside. He dropped one foot to the floor and raised his other, hooking his ankle on the back of the couch.

Wipe that dopey smile off your face, it's creepy.

"Hmmm."

Sylar gripped lightly at Peter's hips and bent towards Peter's groin, and bit just above the swell of his erection. The nurse jerked and yelped at the bite then cast an angry look in Sylar's direction. He licked and bit at his lips and canted his hips up in invitation.

Take it, you know you want to.

"Hm."

Sylar pinched at the pinkened skin of Peter's groin and tugged. He grinned down at Peter, proud that he hadn't flinched, then leaned down and licked a hot swipe across the aggitated skin. He brushed his face across Peter's groin, the prickly stubble causing Peter's skin to jump and quiver. He kissed and nibbled his way down Peter's pubic bone and onto the main shaft, sucking harshly on the twisting veins there.

Above him Peter was panting and sighing and twisting his face into his upperarm. A bright hot blush was spreading across his cheeks and nose, it matched the hot coloring around Peter's groin.

"So pretty Petrelli."

Peter let out a girlish whine in acknowledgement and bucked up farther into Sylar's mouth. He huffed and pulled back enough to slip is mouth around the tip of Peter's erection. He poked his tongue out and teased at the slit before hollowing his cheeks and sucking. The muscles in Peter's legs and arms tensed and locked in place, his toes curled in and his mouth hung open. Sylar slipped further down on Peter's erection and smiled around it. He brought one hand up Peter's thigh, caressing it softly before clutching down and digging his blunt nails into the sensitive skin there. He brought his other hand up to squeeze and press against the hot skin at the base of Peter's erection.

S'good for you?

Mmmmmmmm...dafeelllssgommmmmmm.

Sylar laughed around Peter's erection and twisted his grip left and right before nibbling lightly on the underside. He pinched a small bit of skin with his teeth and sucked as hard as he could. Peter's whole body jerked and curled in, cradling Sylar's head in his thighs. The come shot out and splattered pearly ribbons across Sylar's forehead and hair.

Sylar waited patiently for the tension to leave Peter's body before he pulled away. The nurse was panting softly into his arm and small tremors were snaking across the skin of his stomach and thighs. The taller man cocked his head to the side and smiled at the blissed out look on Peter's face before collecting all the semen he could on his hand and reaching out to smear it on Peter's face.

The nurse let out an idignat huff but didn't flinch away.

"You're turn, up and over Petrelli."

Peter groaned and slid his leg off the back of the couch with a thump and slowly rolled himself off of the couch. He laid there, sprawled across the carpet for a few moments, ignoring the uncomfortable glob of come stuck to the side of his nose. When Sylar began prodding his side with his toes Peter sighed and lifted himself up on shaky arms before kneeling inbetween Sylar's spread legs. The taller man was leaning back and had his arms thrown across the top of the couch.

"You look like a whore."

"You're whole condescending act isn't worth much when you have come gelling up your hair."

Sylar's lips thinned as he reached out and roughly jerked Peter's head to his groin.

Suck.

Peter 'Hm'ed and rolled his lips over his teeth and took Sylar into his mouth. He worked quickly, making as many slurping noises as possible. He spread his knees farther apart and rolled his eyes up to look coyly at Sylar. He ran his fingers lightly over Sylar's thighs before digging his nails into his hips. Sylar huffed and grabbed a fist full of Peter's hair, tugging and pulling to get more of what he wanted.

"S'good Peter."

Peter relaxed his throat as much as possible and let Sylar force his head up and down. He swallowed reflexivly and concentrated on working up as much drool as possible to ease the frantic pace Sylar had set. Dribbles of Peter's spit were streaking down his chin and splashing down into Sylar's pubic hair, making clear little beads. He dug his fingers harder into Sylar's hips, drawing blood and pulling out a hiss from the taller man. Sylar spread his legs farther apart and pulled Peter's head down, the nurse's nose pressed firmly into his pubic bone.

Peter worked against the tight grip in his hair and swallowed a few times before rocking his head from side to side. He pulled one leg up, his knee to his chest, and dug his toes into the carpet before relaxing his jaw and breathing heavily through his nose.

Sylar tugged on a wayward lock of Peter's hair and twisted it around his finger.

"Tired already?"

Peter slid his eyes shut and pressed a knuckle to Sylar's perenium then hollowed out his cheeks again. He pulled back, scraping his teeth across Sylar's sensitive skin as he did so. Sylar's whole body shivered as he came. His eyes slid shut and his head dropped back , his mouth open. Peter pulled away softly and licked the tip of Sylar's flagging erection before crawling up Sylar's body and curling up against his chest.

Peter pressed his nose into the warm skin of Sylar's neck and placed a soft kiss there.

"Carry me to bed?"

Sylar huffed and kicked his legs out petulantly. But just as Peter was about to stand and leave him be, Sylar surged up from the couch and scooped up Peter bridal style. The nurse smiled and hooked his arm around Sylar's neck.

Awwwe.

"Shut it Petrelli, or I'll see a bus driver about an ability."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	40. Chapter 40

Peep Show

Summary: Gabriel sneaks peeks at Peter's provocative pants. **Settled World Verse**

3rd Person POV

The warm Sunday glow worked its way through the curtains and warmed a patch of carpet in the Petrelli apartment. It was blissfully muted indoors, the hustle and bustle of New York was shut out by thick windows and seven stories. Gabriel was busy working his way through a crossword while Peter lounged in the sunny patch of carpet near the window. He was laid out on his stomach, shirtless, with his arms folded and under his right cheek. The nurse was breathing slowly and deeply, just barely awake, enjoying the sun warming the skin of his back.

Gabriel wet his bottom lip and squinted through his glasses, concentrating hard on the puzzle in front of him. He began mumbling the clues in a vain attempt to understand them better.

"An eleven letter word for one who hates humanity." He frowned and pushed his glasses further up his nose with a knuckle. "Oh...mis-an-thrope. Misanthrope. Hm, good one." He had scribbled his answer happily and was smiling to himself, glad to be one word closer to victory. When he saw that the word fit perfectly he shuffled his feet against the floor and giggled in victory. The sudden movement started Noah and set him scampering out from beneath the table.

The table jerked as Noah ran and it made Gabriel follow the dog with his eyes. His gaze lead him to Peter, who was still sprawled comfortably in the sunny patch of carpet. His eyes slid shyly from the slight blush dusting his cheekbones to the two dimples of Peter's lower back, thumbprints. Gabriel's eyes flashed back to the paper when he realized how tight and low the black jeans were on Peter. But his resolve didn't last, his eyes flicked back and he took in the denim encased swell of Peter's ass. Even through a dark layer of denim Gabriel could tell Peter's ass was pert and firm, perfectly round like a girls.

He blushed heavily and turned back to his paper quickly. His glasses slid further down his nose but he ignored it. He was worried that too much movement on his part would bring Peter's attention. He shook his head slowly and closed his eyes. He concentrated on keeping his mind blank so that Peter wouldn't pick up any stray dirty thoughts.

He took a deep breath through his nose and picked up his pen again, ready to get back to his puzzle.

_An old English term for 'backside'. Nine letters..._

Gabriel's eyes widened comicly as he deciphered the clue. His eyes flicked over to Peter's prone form again, his gaze lingering this time on the center stitching of the jeans. He knew that it rested just over the seam of Peter's ass and that he was not in fact wearing underwear. Gabriel's accute spacial reasoning told him that jeans that tight would practically show wrinkles in Peter's skin and the lack of lines meant Peter was going commando. Gabriel also knew that if Peter shifted just right his crack would peek out of the top of the jeans. He got lost in that fantasy, thinking about what could happen in the calm Sunday morning that would make Peter shift forward just so. But he chastised himself after a few moments and looked back to his puzzle.

He scribbled posterior in its correct place and scanned the page for the next clue. His pencil scratched across the page and he moved to his next clue, and just as he was about to read the next one he heard a sigh and the soft rustling of skin against carpet. Gabriel held the paper up over his face, the side of his hand resting against the table, so he could peer over it at Peter.

The nurse had shifted, curling himself just slightly towards the window. He was still mostly on hs stomach, but tilted up just enough to accomodate the shift of his arm which was now folded along the center of his chest and stomach. His hands were still together though, forming a pillow for his face which now pointed toward the window. Gabriel flicked his eyes back to the puzzle. He looked blankly at the grid of squares on the paper before peeking back over the top to look at Peter once again.

This time his eyes drifted back to Peter's butt. He sucked in a small breath and wet his lips when he saw that the move had indeed pulled down the pants some more. The watchmaker was able to see the very top of Peter's crack, just a tease, like a small dimple peeking over the pants. But the new curve to Peter's spine and legs had also tightened the fabric acoss Peter's ass. The denim was stretched to its limit. It looked to Peter as if it would burst at the seams, too full of Peter's wonderful butt to stay closed.

Gabriel shook his head to banish those silly thoughts and looked back at his puzzle. He was tempted to peek over again but chastised himself for it just in time. Instead he laid the puzzle back against the table and pushed the tip of the pencil to the paper. He scanned over the clues he had left and tried to concentrate.

_A heavy weight fabric composed mostly of cotton. Five letters._

Gabriel huffed and dropped his pencil. He folded his arms and stared petulantly down at the puzzle.

_Oh come on. Denim? Really?_

Gabriel heard a dull and small thump from Peter's direction. He looked up and took in Peter's relaxed face. The nurse had turned his upper body to lie on his back, with his lower body still curved and facing the carpet. His arm was outstretched towards Gabriel, resting on the carpet, and his face was craned towards him as well.

"Hard puzzle?"

Gabriel's face flushed and he hurridly dropped his gaze back down to the table and scribbled his answer.

"In a way."

Gabriel was instantly relieved when Peter didn't ask any further questions. He was able to get through the next few clues with no urge to molest Peter with his eyes and thanked God quietly for small miracles. The final clue however, ruined his concentration.

_A term for one who enjoys watching permiscuous behavior._

Gabriel's face burned a bright pink that spread slowly down his neck and up to his ears as he scribbled out the answer.

"Vouyer huh? That's a little 'Risque' for a Sunday paper."

Gabriel's hand jerked across the paper at Peter's comment. His mind reeled at the thought that Peter might have been listening in this whole time and was actually teasing him for it. He gulped and wet his lips before setting his puzzle aside.

"I think they're trying to 'get with the times'. But I could be wrong."

Peter nodded and rose to his knees and turned to face Gabriel entirely.

"We're dating you know. You have an all access pass to what inside my pants. You can stare all you want."

"My mother didn't raise me to stare."

"Your mother didn't raise you to have sex with boys either."

Gabriel frowned and studied his nails.

"Buuut, I'm pretty sure your mother raised you to appreciate your spouse right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I felt pretty damn appreciated."

Gabriel gave Peter a small smile and glanced quickly down at his groin before focusing back on his face. Peter stood and padded over to Gabriel and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Come on, lets go appreciate what's inside these pants.'

"Okay..."

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	41. Chapter 41

I Am Gabriel

Summary: Gabriel is his own person. Sylar came second. **Settled World Verse**

-This fic is suppose to take place after it's discovered that Gabriel and Sylar are two different personalities, but before he starts dating Peter.-

3rd Person POV

"I want to ask you something Gabriel, is that alright?"

"Yes."

"What made Sylar kill Brian Davis all those years ago? Until that point he was always making the second move, not the first. Why the change? Can you answer that Gabriel?"

Gabriel dug his nails into the arms of the chair and curled his fingers in.

"I killed Brian Davis."

"Yes Gabriel, I know Sylar killed him. That's alright, all I'm asking is why."

Gabriel clenched his teeth and continued to stare down at his lap.

"No. I killed Brian. Me. Gabriel Gray. I killed Brian Davis."

"Why?"

"You don't understand. Not like I do, no one can. Everything, all at once. It's all tick tick ticking away inside my head. All of the worlds broken things and broken people are ticking away in my skull, beating and beating, driving me crazy. Everything wants my attention. So much needs to get fixed. So much..."

"So why did you kill Brian?"

"It won't stop, not on its own. I'd had too much. So much ticking, so many things were building up and ringing and screaming in my head. I had to stop it. I just wanted peace. I just wanted...silence."

"Gabriel, why did you kill Brian?"

"There are only two ways to stop the ticking. I can either fix it, or break it apart until there's nothing left to be fixed. Break it until it's nothing...People aren't people when they're dead. They're just nothing, they aren't anything after that. They are...no more, they aren't."

"So you killed Brian because you couldn't fix him?"

"I killed him so I could have peace."

"Gabriel, do you ever have thoughts about killing yourself?"

"Not anymore."

"Not anymore...so, you did have them at some point. What made you change your mind?"

"I use to think it would bring me peace."

"And now?"

"I don't want to be nothing anymore."

- - - - - - - - –

On a small black television Angela Petrelli and Noah Bennet watched grainy footage of Gabriel's session.

"I still don't trust him."

"Noah, I'm not paying you to trust him. I'm paying you to trust me."

"And to trust your opinion of Sylar."

"Now Noah, I know this is difficult for you but we must accept that Gabriel is a seperate entity from Sylar."

"And what's your opinion of Gabriel?"

"He's...something."

At the left of the small screen Gabriel Gray mouthed three words.

'I am Gabriel.'

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World __Verse_ series.


	42. Chapter 42

Hallelujah

3rd Person POV

_So good. So good. So good. MMMMMM! Yes, YES! Sooooooo good. S'good. MMMmmmmmm._

Peter was on his knees, mouth around Gabriel's dick, sucking in earnest. His fingers were holding tight to Gabriel's thighs, but he was careful to keep his fingernails away so as not to draw blood. He had Gabriel sprawled out in a kitchen chair, his head dangling over the top. He pulled up and off with a pop, just long enough to make sure Gabriel was okay. The watchmaker whined and twitched his hips up pitifully. Peter smiled and pushed the bottom of Gabriel's button up out of the way with his nose and kissed at the base of his groin. He breathed out slowly before giving the same spot a playful kitten lick and moving back to the task at hand.

He kissed the head of Gabriel's erection before pushing his lips around it and slurping. He worked his tongue up and down and pressed it into the openning. In his head he got a burst of blissed out mental static.

_MMMmmMMmmmmmfffeeellsmmmgodohgodgoooooodmmmmfaaa!_

Peter smiled around Gabriel's length and slid down farther. He took half of Gabriel into his mouth before humming loudly and rocking his head from side to side. Above him Gabriel was clutching desperatly at the arms of the chair and whining just as desperatly into the air. His mouth was open and his legs were trembling and scrambling against the kitchen tile.

Peter slid down farther and pushed his nose against Gabriel's pubic bone and moaned loudly. Gabriel let out a yelp and his whole body jerked. Peter held back a laugh, knowing it would ruin the moment. His knees spread wider, brushing against Gabriel's pooled khaki's. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and flattened his tongue against the bottomside of Gabriel's erection. Peter bobbed his head a few times, sucking on the retreat.

Good?

_Fagoommmmsssgoodddmmfeels...mmmmm...hallelujah._

This time Peter did laugh. The sensation quaked through Gabriel's erection and up his spine. Peter stilled his laughter, hollowed his cheeks, and sucked. Normally he would let the semen pool over his tongue so he could enjoy the closeness of the act. But Gabriel didn't like the mess it sometimes led to, so he sucked. He savored the fleeting feel of Gabriel's come sliding past his tongue and down his throat, all while watching Gabriel sag and pant.

The watchmakers breaths were accompanied by nasal keens as he exhaled too harshly through his nose. His fingers twitched and quivered around the armrest and his stomach muscles jumped and tensed in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Peter smiled at his strewn form and gently worked his pants back up his body. The nurse had to pull Gabriel forward and rest his upperbody against his own to help him up off the chair enough to get the pants under him. When Peter had the pants around Gabriel's hips he let the watchmaker slide back into the chair while he fastened his pants and belt. Next he retucked Gabriel's shirt and smoothed out the wrinkles there.

"Hallelujah good?"

_Mmmmm_

_Peter folded his hands over Gabriel's knee and rested his chin there. He smiled up at Gabriel and rubbed his thumbs over his knee slowly._

_Someday...I'll do that for you._

_"Hallelujah."_

_A/N: Just picture Gabriel smiling lazily there at the end. Kitchen sex: Good in writing, bad in practice. Wood and marble were not made for comfort people. I can't even sprawl out long enough to do up posters, I can't imagine bumpin uglies on a kitchen table. So I figured a chair would be more practical. Maybe he has those cushy things tied on the seat of them, I never really thought about it._

**Disclaimer:**I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the ___Settled World __Verse_ series.


	43. Chapter 43

Making a Movie

Summary: Peter does a porno. Settled World Verse

3rd Person POV

Noah was spending the night with Sandra and Mr. Muggles, and was most likely making the best of the quiter household by sleeping somewhere cozy. Peter had dropped him off around noon during his lunch break. Sandra was surprised by the sudden apperance but took one look at Noah's shaggy face and caved.

There's nothing creepier in a porn than seeing a pet in the background...watching. Okay...so there are worse things in porn but we don't have those types of kinks.

Peter pinched the skin of his hips and twisted from side to side, inspecting himself in the full length mirror. He stood on his toes and pushed out his butt, admiring the astetic curve there.

I look like a girl.

Peter sighed and turned to face the mirror and smoothed his hands down his stomach. He glanced over his groin and decided that a waxing was in order. He took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder to the bed where a camera was screwed into a tripod. The sheets were crisp and clean, dark blue cotton. Peter had been careful to remove all photos from the bedroom, and anything else that would link them to friends or family lest the video somehow leak onto the internet.

After casting one more scrutinizing glace at the mirror Peter headed for the bathroom. He pulled the wax from under the sink and set to work smoothing out his groin.

Twenty minutes later Peter was standing in front of his mirror again, stark naked, holding a pair of dark pants against himself. If worn, they would ride low on his hips in the front, barely on, and would squeeze tight around the curve of his ass. In his other hand, dangling loosely, was a powder pink pettiecoat. He alternated holding them in front of himself, debating what would look best on camera versus what would turn Sylar on more.

If I wear the petticoat I have to go through makeup again. But if I wear the pants he'll want to put that blindfold on me. But makeup would look better on camera...but that blindfold is really thick so only my lower face would show...Maybe I should ask Brei's opinion. No...he's not to hot on this porno idea to begin with.

Peter sighed and slumped his shoulders. His chin dropped forward to touch his chest and his toes dug into the carpet.

Choices...

Peter sucked and nibbled at his bottom lip, trying to decide quickly before Sylar got home and chose for him. He mentally weighed the pros and cons of each outfit and tried to think about what he's have to wear with each. The pants meant a thick and wide leather blindfold which stopped just short enough for the tip of his nose to peek through. It would also most likely mean metal handcuffs. The pettiecoat on the otherhand would require makeup, stockings, and a good deal of whining during the act.

Peter felt vocal today.

Pettiecoat it is.

He folded and put the black pants aside, vowing to wear them again soon. Peter stepped into the skirt before digging through his drawers for black stockings to go with it. He plopped down onto the edge of the bed and began rolling the stockings over his toes and up his legs. They stopped mid-thigh and were just sheer enough to give a glimpse of his pale legs. Peter had hoped they'd be entirely opaque but he wasn't about to go back and buy more. He pointed his toes and pressed them into the carpet, lifting his heels and twisting his feet slowly back and forth. Mentally he was preparing himself for the next few steps of the process.

From his spot on the bed he could hear the jingle of a doorknob turning and knew Sylar had returned home. He blushed and studied his feet closer, hoping that Sylar would drag him through the next few steps so that he didn't have to do them himself. Joking about and doing are two entirely different matters and playing dirty with Sylar in the privacy of his own room was way different from filming it to watch later. He knew he had a habit of sticking his foot in things and he knew for a fact that what he said in the heat of passion was only brilliant because his dick was buried somewhere intimate. Before he could dwell on it any longer, Sylar was standing in front of him. He still wore Gabriel's pressed khaki's and woolen vest, but it was undeniably Sylar, the bravado gave him away.

Peter sat in silence, waiting for a snarky comment or a tug to his hair. Instead Sylar leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Peter's forehead. The execution was awkward, but endearing, and when he stood right again he couldn't help but fidget.

"Thank you for this Peter."

"Wha—"

Intamacy right? You're going to be bouncing around naked on camera for me, the least I can do is be nice about it.

"Sylar, you-"

Don't make me say it.

Peter stood and wrapped his arms around Sylar's middle and pressed his cheek to his chest.

"I love you too."

Sylar brought his arms up, as if to hug back, but ended up letting his arms fall back to his sides. Instead he kissed the top of Peter's head before pulling back and holding him at arms length. Sylar took his time admiring the nurse's choice in clothing, his eyes lingering for a moment longer on the bellybutton and then two pert pink nipples.

This is nice.

Peter pulled Sylar's hand to his mouth and kissed his palm before pulling away to head back towards the bathroom. Laid out across the counter was an eyeshadow kit, complete with brushes, and a handful of different colored lip glosses and mascara tubes. He braced his palms against the counter and frowned down at his selection. A warm hand brushed across the dip of his lower back. Sylar had joined him and was shaving, standing partially behind Peter and looking over his hunched shoulders into the mirror.

Try the brown.

"With black stockings?"

Yes.

Peter sighed and set to work applying the dark brown eyeshadow. He decided not to bother with eyeliner again after the difficulty he had the last time, and moved straight to the mascara. Once he finished he lifted his chin and turned his head left and right to admire his reflection. The mirror lights caught on his cheeks and lit his cheekbones and the length of his nose. Peter caught Sylar staring and gave him a smoldering look through the mirror before heading towards the bedroom.

Before Sylar had entered the bathroom he had set up three other cameras around the room, and a couple of stage lights as well. Peter was afraid to look up and confirm whether or not there was a micophone screwed into the ceiling. There were cameras on either side of the bed, on at a corner by the foot and another rigged to dangle down from the ceiling, in the perfect position to film Peter's ass if he were on all fours.

"Syyyylllaaarrrr!"

"There won't be any permenant damage."

Peter huffed and crawled onto the bed. He got onto his hands and knees and cast a look over his shoulder before looking back at the bedspread and digging his fingers in. The back of his pettiecoat stopped just over the swell of his ass, just barely hiding that he was wearing no underwear.

It's only a video Peter. No one else is going to see it. No one.

The matress dipped and groaned as Sylar got to his knees behind him. The taller man ran his hands lightly from Peter's hips towards his stomach and then up to his chest. His left hand rested over Peter's heart and pressed.

"This is for us. Gabriel's not the only one who realizes how much you give for us. I wouldn't ruin that by showing off our sex tape. This is for us. Just us." Sylar pressed his nose into the short hairs at the base of Peter's skull and rested his lips lightly over Peter's neck. "Our. Little. Secret." Peter shivered at the feel of Sylar's lips ghosting over his neck. The tension drained from Peter's body and his form sagged lightly under Sylar.

Sylar pulled away, on his knees, and waved his hand through the air. All of the filming equiptment in the room turned on and tuned in. He guided Peter to lie down on his stomach, spreading his knees to accomodate Peter's legs. He ran his hands lightly over the backs of Peter's thighs and brushed his thumbs teasingly under the skirt, pressing down lightly before guiding him to turn over. When Peter had settled on his back Sylar smiled down at him and placed a reassuring hand on his stomach.

Sylar was clean shaven and wearing only a pair of tight blue jeans, needlessly held up with a black leather belt. His knees were locked in place on either side of Peter's thighs, and the curve of his spine pulled out back of his jeans allowing the cameras to peek at his blue boxers. He thumbed the seam of Peter's stocking, feeling the contrast between synthetics and skin. Then he cupped the backs of Peter's thighs and slid his hands up and under the skirt. When his hands were cupping the swell of Peter's ass he squeezed softly and dug his thumbs into Peter's hipbones.

"Ready babe?"

"Always."

Sylar smirked down at Peter and brought his legs up to stand over him. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it free, all the while lookingsmugly down at the nurse. Peter shivered at the attention, but did his best to stay relaxed. He watched as Sylar dropped the belt carelessly over the side of the bed and then unbotton his pants.

Sylar crooked a finger at Peter, telling him to get on his knees. He took his time getting into position, worried that hurrying would look foolish on camera. But soon he was on his knees, face level with Sylar's groin. For Sylar's benefit he hooked his fingers in Sylar's belt loops and curved his spine just so, leaving his butt out and the ruffles of his skirt barely covering anything. He licked his lips and looked coyly up at Sylar, ready for instructions.

"Unzip me."

Then blow me okay. However you want.

Peter kissed Sylar's abdomen, his bottom lip catching the elastic of his boxers, then he did as he was told. He tugged at Sylar's jeans and boxers down to mid thigh, jerking his head back as Sylar's erection bobbed out. His eyes flitted to the camera briefly before he turned his full attention to the task at hand. Peter shook out his hair and kissed the tip of Sylar's erection before sucking harshly on the tip.

Sylar groaned and grabbed a fist full of Peter's hair, not guiding, just holding. Peter was encouraged by the touch and opened his jaw wider to take in more. He bobbed his head and made far more slurping noises than were necessary. He gripped tightly at the base of Sylar's erection and rocked his whole body in motion with his bobbing head. He sucked and nibbled and licked, doing his best to make his actions look vulgar. Peter pulled his hand away to grasp at Sylar's hipbone and swallowed Sylar whole. When his nose was pressed firmly into dark pubic hair, Sylar gripped the base of his neck and yanked him back.

Peter let himself fall back against the mattress with a thud and a whine. He fisted his hands into the sheets and bent his legs at the knees, then spread his legs. Sylar got off the bed long enough to throw his pants and boxers aside before climbing back onto the matress and placing his palms on Peter's knees. He pushed them apart, pressing the sides of Peter's knees into the matress, forcing his legs into a crude diamond shape. Peter blushed and bit his lip while Sylar leaned down and pushed the bottom of the skirt up with his head. Peter shivered at the feel of finally being exposed to the cold air and the cameras. Sylar flattened his tongue and licked from Peter's base to tip, then sucked the head into his mouth.

Peter keened and twisted his body up into Sylar's mouth, making sure to turn his pinkened face towards a camera. He brought a knuckle to his mouth and sucked on it in tune with Sylar's teasing licks. The taller man puckered his lips around a small patch of skin on the underside of Peter's erection and sucked. Peter let out a whine at the stinging feel, similar to getting a hickey. He curled his legs up slightly and tightened his thighs around Sylar's head, overwhelmed by the sensation. Sylar gripped harshly on the outside of Peter's thighs and dug his nails in while pulling Peter's length into his mouth. Peter sucked in a deep breath and wriggled his hips up, pushing deeper into Sylar's mouth.

Sylar makes a show of bobbing his head up and down, sucking torturously and not going fast enough to bring any real relief.

How do you wanna do this? All fours, in my lap, missionary, it's all up to you.

"Hnnnnn!"

Peter tossed his head back and bit his knuckle; there were small trails of drool bubbling up around it and streaking down his cheek and chin.

Decide, or I will.

Peter groaned again and flexed his thighs against Sylar's face.

Wanna ride you.

Sylar smirked around the length in his mouth and pulled back. Peter slowly lowered his legs back down to the bed and turned to get on his hands and knees. Sylar flipped up his pettiecoat and shifted back to give the ceiling camera a full view of Peter's ass, surrounded by chiffon and lace. Sylar ran his hand along the curve of Peter's ass, then leaned in and kissed gently where cheek met thigh. Peter sighed and shifted his knees farther apart, then flinched as Sylar bit down in the same place he just kissed. The nurse worked his fingers into the sheets and Sylar bit and nibbled his way up Peter's ass, seeking his entrance.

Sylar leaned in and licked a path across Peter's ass, from one cheek to the next, reveling in the shiver he received. The nurse bowed his head, the blush kicking up on his cheeks. His hair fell forward into his eyes, shielding his embarassed look from the cameras.

Sylar...Sylar don't...I don't thi—MMMMMmmmmmm.

Peter's train of thought crashed as Sylar dug his tongue into Peter's hole. He licked and sucked, and dug his tongue in as deep as possible. He clutched harshly at Peter's ass and dug his fingers in, pulling his apart so he could delve deeper. Beneath his mouth and hands Peter quaked and shivered. His legs trembled and his hips quirked backwards and forwards, trying desperatly to get more or less.

Mmmmmmm! Sylar...SYLAR!

Peter made a choked noise before starting up his moaning and keening verbally. His mouth opened wide and his eyes screwed closed as he keened and whined loudly. His body shook and rocked back against Sylar's face desperatly.

"Pl...please...pleaaaaasssee Syyyyllllarrrr."

Peter twisted his upper body closer to the bed and gave a desperate push back against Sylar's face. Sylar pulled back with a smirk and wiped his face on his arm.

"Since you asked so nicely..."

Sylar gave a gentle shove to Peter's ass, urging him to move over so he could lie back against the bed on his back. Sylar bent his legs slightly at the knees and spread them, then adjusted his shoulders and head on a pillow.

"C'mere."

Peter licked his lips and straddled Sylar's thighs on his knees. Peter brought his arms up high above his head and clasped them together, then stretched. His back curved, pulling the skin of his stomach taut and puching it out towards Sylar. The man beneath him growled and yanked Peter forward by his thighs. The nurse gasped as he jerked forward and braced his palms against Sylar's stomach to keep from falling.

So impatient.

In response Sylar bucked his hips up and twisted his fingers into the stretchy material of Peter's stockings, pulling them askew. The nurse leans forward, putting his weight into his arms, and rubs his ass against Sylar's groin to tease. He dropped his chin to his chest and tilted his head toward the camera, looking into it as if it were Sylar's face. He blew a kiss it's way before focusing back on the man beneath him.

Sylar was breathing heavily through his nose and gritting his teeth to keep from making any more noise. He ran his hands up Peter's thighs and under the pettiecoat, his fingers resting where leg met hip. Peter leaned down and pressed his lips against Sylar's, just resting. His eyes were shut and his fingers were tangled into Sylar's chest hair. He took a deep breath through his nose and rubbed his thumbs over Sylar's nipples slowly.

Sylar opened his mouth and pressed his tongue to the seam of Peter's lips. The sigh he got in return was one of bliss. He ran his tongue across Peter's teeth and then delved deeper to play with Peter's tongue. The nurse started rutting happily against Sylar in appreciation, but the pace didn't match the tenderness of the kiss. Their hips pushed and ground desperatly while their lips and tongues tangled softly and slowly. Sylar smiled around Peter's tongue, knowing the mic he had set up early would be able to pick up the soft smacking and sucking noises their lips were making now.

Peter pressed his thumbs harshly into Sylar's nipples one last time before pulling away with a slurping noise. He rocked off his knees into a small squat and reached under himself to hold Sylar's erection still. With Sylar softly stroking his hips, Peter slid down until the soft flesh of his ass met Sylar's pelvis. The two of them groaned in unison.

Peter ground his hips in small circles, working Sylar into a huffing frenzy, before tossing his head back and biting his lip. Sylar dug his nails deeper into Peter's hips, drawing blood, and bucked up jerkily throwing off Peter's rhythm.

Mmm, come ON!

Peter huffed and braced his hands on Sylar's knees. With one last smoldering look in Sylar's direction he raised himself up and started in on a frantic pace. His nails dug into Sylar's knees, drawing blood and bruising the flesh. He had his feet braced against the sheets near the bottom of Sylar's ribcage, the stockings making purchase difficult. His head lolled back, giving the ceiling camera a perfect view of his blissed out features. A dark blush covered his cheeks and the bridge of his nose and enough drool remained on his lower face to make his lips and chin sparkle in the lighting.

Sylar clung tighter to Peter and curled his toes into the sheets. He did his best to buck up into Peter as the nurse came crashing down. The frantic pace they had set made the pettiecoat rise up with every downward motion, giving Sylar teasing little glimpses at Peter's erection hidden underneath. The constant rubbing and catching of the chiffon against his sensitive flesh had Peter screaming to the ceiling. The whining had taken on a nasally sound and Sylar laughed heartily at the thought of what it would sound like on tape.

In retaliation Peter shifted forward and braced his hands on Sylars chest. He waited long enough to catch his breath, then scratched angry red lines down Sylar's chest. Blood welled up and mixed with sweat; Peter ran his hands through it and matted it into dark chest hair. Peter repositioned his legs, his toes now brushing against Sylar's ass. The taller man spread his legs a little wider to help Peter in the new position. The nurse curled his fingers in and rammed himself as hard as he could against Sylar's erection.

He forced himself back and forth as hard and as fast as he could. The wreckless pace tore his insides and forced his regeneration into play. The constant tear, heal, tear, heal feeling washed over Peter and Sylar like a drug. It tingled and warmed Peter from the inside and forced his mucsles to spasm and ripple around Sylar. Peter whined and groaned into Sylar's neck while Sylar panted and huffed into Peter's hair.

Big finish, big finish, needs a big finish.

Peter panted out his agreement and grit his teeth as Sylar yanked him up and off of his erection. Sylar tossed him onto the bed and got to his knees over Peter's chest. He grabbed a fistful of Peter's hair and held his face still. Sylar sucked in a breath as he grabbed his own erection and worked himself up and down in a tight grip. Peter's mouth opened as his eyes closed. He flattened his tongue and pushed it out, waiting for Sylar's come to splash against his face.

Sylar yanked on Peter's hair again, earning him a lustful moan, and Sylar came undone. His come spurted out in messy ribbons across Peter's face. It dripped into his mouth and eyes and some of it oozed into his hair. Sylar sighed and scooted forward, pressing the head of his erection to Peter's lips. The nurse kissed it sweetly before licking away the last traces of come there.

Sylar panted and cooed at Peter, still riding out his aftershocks. He released Peter's hair and trailed his hand down to smear some of his come into Peter's skin. The nurse let out a fitful whine, bucked his hips up, and wound his finger's around Sylar's hips.

"Mmmm. Sylar...Sy...Sylar. Mmmm, please. Pl-please I need...ahh..."

Peter was playing up his desperation a bit, working himself to tears over his frustration. Sylar smiled at the display and slowly worked his way back until he was strattling Peter's upper thighs. Peter's erection was tenting the chiffon and staining a dark pool into the front of it. Sylar admired the streaks of precome that dirty the pettiecoat and made it stick to itself in odd places. A loud whine from Peter broke his concentration and made Sylar focus back on the matter at hand.

Sylar grabbed fistfulls fo the chiffon and pulled it tight, pressing it to the matress. This trapped Peter's erection and pulled it down between his legs. The feel of the scratchy chiffon grating against his erection made Peter whimper and twist his hips, desperate to get away from the sensation.

Sylar smirked at Peter's distress, remembering Peter's first crossdressing incident. He debated a repeat preformance but decided against it. Sylar knew making this porno was pushing their limits, he feared testing Peter too much. He let go of the chiffon and held it up, motioning for Peter to grab it. The nurse did so, holding the hem of his pettiecoat up and looking shyly into the camera nearest to him. Sylar leaned in and took Peter into his mouth. He held tight to Peter's base and worked his mouth in circles around the head of Peter's erection letting it glide across his tongue and the insides of his cheeks.

Peter panted and blushed, still facing the camera, pretending to be embarassed by the attention. His legs trembled and his hips twitched as Sylar relaxed his jaw and worked his way father down on Peter's erection. He hollowed his cheeks and worked his hand up and down what he didn't have in his mouth. Peter whimpered and curled his thighs around Sylar's head and worked his fingers tighter into the hem of his skirt.

Need something?

Yes! Yes! Sylarrrrr!

Sylar reached out with his telekenisis and pushed into Peter's opening just as he scraped his teeth across the top of his erection. Peter let out a femenine screech and dropped the hem of his skirt. His whole body tried to curl around Sylar's head. Sylar sucked hurriedly, doing his best not to choke. When he'd sucked Peter dry he relaxed his jaw and took a few deep breaths around the length in his mouth. The soft push and pull of breathing going across Peter's oversensitive flesh made Peter twitch and quiver. He groaned softly as the aftershocks of his orgasm rocked through him.

When Sylar pulled away he gave a parting kiss to Peter's erection and pulled the skirt down to cover him. He crawled up Peter's body and kissed him on the side of the mouth, right over the dead nerves.

Mm...Sylar...n...nn...

Sylar waved an arm and turned off all the filming equiptment in the room. He looked everything over to make sure it was all off, then turned back to Peter. The nurse reached out sluggishly to pull Sylar's face towards him and initiated a sweet kiss.

_Is it over, can I come out now?_

Peter's quiet laughter shook through Sylar's chest.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	44. Chapter 44

My Name

Summary: (From Settled World Verse, but can be read as a stand alone) Peter and Gabriel go on a mission for Angela and try to pass time during the night.

A.N.: This is before Peter and Gabriel start to date, but after Gabriel is released back into regular society.

3rd Person POV

After decades of ignoring it, Angela Petrelli regained her interest in Coyote Sands. Facing her sister a few years before burned her deeply and she hoped that Peter would be able to sooth Alice's hurt. She arranged for Peter to get some time off, forced him together with Gabriel, and set them off. Their plane ride was riddled with Gabriel's nervous ticks and Peter's thinly veiled aggitation. Peter had tried to melt back into his seat and enjoy the music coming from his headphones, instead he found himself watching Gabriel falling apart. The watchmaker had fidgeted, twitched, slumped, stretched, moped, and at one point he had shed tears. Peter hadn't been fooled into thinking Gabriel was frightened by the flight. He knew Gabriel was struggling with guilt and embarassment and it was only by sheer force of empathetic ability that Peter was able to tear his eyes away and let Gabriel melt down in peace.

It was already dark out when Peter and Gabriel had made it to the remains of Coyote Sands. They had taken refuge in an old cabin, one set aside for boys. Peter had initially headed for the cabin closest to the entrance but Gabriel had sputtered and fidgeted for five minutes in obvious embarrassed agony until Peter figured out what had him in a bunch. He had seized Gabriel's arm and marched them towards the nearest boys bunk and settled in.

Now the both of them were huddled on the floor against the wall near a corner. The toes of their shoes almost touched, but Gabriel kept himself in check and braced his sole against the floor. They both had blankets thrown around their shoulders; musty rust colored blankets that wear so threadbare and dirty it was laughable. Peter snuck glances over at Gabriel, who held the hem of his blanket to his mouth like a child. Warnings crawled up his throat, 'it's dirty don't do that', 'it'll make you sick', or 'are you really that cold'. But he said nothing. Gabriel, for the first time since the trip started, looked content. His eyes were shut, his breathing even, and his bottom lip was tucked firmly into the hem of the nasty blanket. Peter wondered vaguely if Gabriel was the type of man who still had his wubby blanket.

Peter opened his mouth, prepared to finally speak, but nothing came out. Instead he wet his lips and focused on his own lap. He could feel that Gabriel's eyes had flicked his direction, but he didn't acknowledge it. The silence between them lasted for a few hours longer, until both their backs ached from the hunched position. Peter curved his spine back and stretched before lying on the ground, his head towards the corner. The sudden movement startled Gabriel. The watchmaker scrunched his eyes shut tighter and scooched further along the wall, away from Peter; while still curled into his blanket with his mouth to his knees.

When Gabriel settled down again, Peter spoke.

"Ahem...So my name's Peter."

Gabriel cast Peter a confused look, but his eyes were shut.

"My mom wanted another kid but she was worried she wouldn't be able to. And she was worried that if she did have another one at her age, there would be complications. So she prayed. I think...yeah, it must have been the only time after Coyote Sands."

Gabriel nodded into his knees, interested. Then scooched closer to Peter, trying to be as quiet about it as possible.

"I think she was lonely. Nathan was growing up and drifting away and Dad was an ass...I think she just wanted someone to love her right ya know? So one day she was driving past a church and stopped inside. She said she just sat down in the pews and stared at all the stained glass. Eventually she fell asleep."

Gabriel worked his fingers into the hem of the blanket near his mouth, eager to hear more even though he knew how the story would end.

"She saw me in her dream. I was...four maybe...and I was crying because a bird flew into my bedroom window. She said that in her dream I picked it up and cried over it until Nathan called a vet."

Peter turned and looked at Gabriel. His face was open and tired.

"She said she knew, when she woke up, that I'd be an empath. She decided to name me Peter because he was the Saint they built the early churches around. She felt like she owed God...or something like that."

For a long time it was quiet, even the insects outside had given way to the peaceful moment. Gabriel pressed his forehead into his knees and listened for Peter's voice. But as the night wore on and nothing came from him but breathing, Gabriel opened up.

"My grandmother...GiGi...could see the future too. But it wasn't pictures, it was all feelings. When my mother got pregnant she talked with GiGi a lot about me."

Peter turned onto his side to get a better look at Gabriel.

"GiGi told mom that she felt evil around Samson, but mom wouldn't listen. She said GiGi was just angry Samson had stolen her away. She should have listened."

Gabriel paused there and Peter tactfully ignored the tears he heard pattering against the wooden floor beneath them.

"GiGi...GiGi had stronger feelings about me with each new month. So when mom asked GiGi what she should name me, GiGi said Gabriel."

'Why' stuck to the tip of Peter's tongue, begging to escape. But he knew better. If he spoke now he risked Gabriel closing off entirely.

"She told mom to name me Gabriel because..."

Gabriel sobbed once and worked to compose himself.

"She felt that I would be loved greatly by someone, but that some day I would bring a feeling of...doom...to everyone around me. The Arc Angel Gabriel, loved by God, but feared by man. For he is who sounds the trumpet for the end of days."

Peter left Gabriel to his tears for a few moments, hoping that he would compose himself. When Peter realised that Gabriel was only going to get more hysterical as time wore on, he decided to act. The nurse reached out and gently clasped Gabriel's hand into his own. Slowly Gabriel's sobs quieted and turned into little sniffles.

By the end of the night Gabriel's worn and weary form was wrapped securly into Peter's front and bundled under blankets.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	45. Chapter 45

When I Think of Blowjobs, I Think...

Summary: Peter reflects on getting head from his favorite serial killer. (Part of **Settled World Verse**, can be read as a stand alone.)

Peter's POV

There's something beautiful about Sylar on his knees. It's not just a power thing either. I mean, that part is great. Being able to ask the big bad boogeyman to get on his knees and open his mouth is exillerating. But there's something more to it.

He looks...softer. But he's still there, it isn't like I'm looking down at Gabriel. His whole face just seems to relax. it's as if this is the only time he just doesn't _think_. There's this peace to his face, all while his pretty pouty lips are wrapped around my dick.

I want to cup my hand around the back of his neck and rub my thumb across his jaw. I want him to rest his cheek on my thigh. But I can't do that. It's okay though, he looks gorgeous regaurdless. I love the way his hair falls loose and streaks across his face. Sometimes it gets stuck to his lips with spit and gives me this weird tickling sensation. When it happens I have to work hard to keep from laughing, I'm pretty sure he'd bite me if I laughed.

Once he looked up at me, right in the eyes, when he pulled away. He gave me the sweetest little kiss on my tip and I squeaked. I couldn't help it, and I ruined the moment. He was vicious after that, all teeth and rough strokes. But that little kiss had been worth it.

How he looks right now...he's making a big fuss about how it's all salty and gross and that I should count my blessings. But he can't fool me, not really. After he's all done downing half a water bottle, and his snarky comments have been reduced to a silent simmer, I see it. He turns his face just barely away from me, and when he think's I'm not looking, he slowly licks across his bottom lip.

I guess I should be weirded out that some guy is savoring the taste of my semen but this is Sylar. That's the closest I'm ever going to get to a 'I like doing that for you'. I'll let him think I don't notice, it's sweeter that way.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	46. Chapter 46

Bath Time

A.N.: Peter's thoughts are underlined and Sylar's are in bold.

3rd Person POV

The only sound in the apartment was the steady burble and splash of warm water filling up the tub. Sylar was sitting on the floor, his cheek pressed to the rim of the tub. His eyes drifted over the clawed feet, admiring the intricate detail carved into the tarnished steel. He remembered some of Gabriel's fuzzy dreams where the tubs like these turned into living critters and carried him away from everything. He smiled into the enamel and ran his finger over the curled 'toe' of the foot nearest to him.

He pulled away just enough to reach a hand in and feel the water. He knew not to fill it too high, lest they splash the floor and make a big mess. He let his fingers rest in the water until the level rose up around his wrist. Then he turned the faucets off with a quick flick of telekeneisis. He pulled himself up, using the tub as leverage and padded into the bedroom. He stripped his clothes along the way and gave a quick pat to Noah's head as he passed by.

Passed out on the bed was Peter. He'd worked a double shift and had skipped his lunch. Sylar crinkled his nose at the smell of blood and antiseptic rolling off the nurse. It made his stomach roll and his eye twitch. Sylar preceeded quietly, resting one knee on the edge of the bed, and gently worked Peter's pants down and off. The nurse murmmered happily in his sleep and dug his nose further into the pillow. Next Sylar rolled down Peter's boxer-briefs and flung them in the same general direction as the pants.

Sylar creeped forward on his knees until he was hovering over the small of Peter's back. With the nurse's sleepy, incosistant, help Sylar pulled off both of Peter's shirts and slid them off the bed. He leaned in close, until his nose brushed against Peter's cheek, and spoke.

"Promise not to scream."

In his sleepy state, Peter was willing to give compliance to anything and mumbled vauge agreement, not really aware of what he was agreeing to. Sylar slid off the bed and scooped Peter up gently, smirking at the happy coo he got in return. He stalked towards the bathroom and curled Peter closer to his body, enjoying the feel of Peter's nose pressing into his neck. When he stood just in front of the tub Sylar tilted his head and pressed his lips just below Peter's hair line.

"You promised..."

He dropped Peter into the tub. In quick succession there was one large splash, one girlish scream, two dull thunks, and a miraid of laughter. Sylar had the smarts enough to step out of Peter's arm span and did nothing to quiet his laughter. In front of him Peter was thrashing about, fighting with a sudden concussion and the shock of being surrounded by water. Sylar bent down into a crouch and watched with a smile as Peter regained his mental facilities and started cursing.

"What! The! Hell! Sylar!"

Sylar drummed his fingers against his bottom lip and cocked his head to the side.

"You stink like death and cleaner. It makes my stomach turn."

"I've been at work! What the hell have you been doing all day? Huh?"

Sylar stood and walked to the edge of the tub and braced his arms against the edge.

"Don't bitch at me because you decided to work late. If you had come home on time you could've shared a nice romp with me in the shower."

"Sylar, you could have asked me to shower."

"Just be grateful it isn't cold Petrelli."

The water had finally stilled from Peter's previous sloshing and the nurse finally took note of how nice it was. He leaned back against the tub and raised his arms to rest against the rim and shut his eyes. The tub was just barely long enough to fit his form without him having to draw his knees up out of the water.

When Sylar deemed Peter calm enough to touch, he summoned some body wash and a washcloth. From there he set about washing Peter off. His movements were cool and clinical, giving no indication that something more intimate might happen later. Peter pouted, not bothering to show his dissapointment. He focused on Sylar and took in the image of Sylar's emotionless face and clinical hands. He tried to probe for any stray thought skimming the surface of his mind, but nothing came of it. Peter's tries were greeted with silence, even as Sylar's hands difted over his groin, so he stopped trying.

A knot worked its way into his chest. Never before, ever, had Sylar's hand been able to drift into that vicinity without provocting something provocative. But there was nothing. He tried to catch Sylar's eyes, but there was no gleam there. He looked like a tired old nurse, desensitised and sick of washing up bedridden patients.

Peter huffed and closed his eyes. His head rolled back so that his neck was curled over the lip of the tub, and he endured the rest of his bath. Some time later he felt Sylar's warm hands working a cloth over his face with gentle care.

Are you really mad?

I'm not mad...just concentrating. I have to get that smell off of you.

Is it really that important.

Hm...for what I'm planning.

And what, pray tell, are you planning?

Peter heard Sylar click his teeth in reply just before he felt cool air rush against his newly revealed face. Sylar had a grin on his face, one that promised Peter all sorts of dirty things. The nurse smiled and leaned forward enough to steal a quick kiss from his lover before sinking coyly back into the bath. He raised on knee and leaned it against the side of the tub, giving Sylar an unhindered veiw of his groin.

The taller man smirked and got one foot into the tub. His foot braced against the enamel just below and behind Peter's raised knee. He gripped the edges of the tub and brought his other foot in, nudging Peter's leg up. The nurse knew that in a few moments his thighs would be straining up and his lower legs would be dangling over the rim of the tub.

Hmmm, I like the way you think Petrelli.

Peter laughed and bit his lip before tugging Sylar down into the water. Sylar telekenetically forced Peter's legs up and over the edge of the tub, the rim resting in the crook behind his knees. He gets to his knees slowly, mindful of how slippery it was bound to be, and ran his hands lightly down the backs of Peter's thighs. He admired the cording of Peter's muscles for a moment, then traced a finger down to his opening.

"Say please."

Peter weighed the pros and cons of a snarky comment, but the water was getting cold so he refrained.

"Please Sylar. Pretty please."

The falsely innocent tone earned him a smirk and a blunt finger. He groaned and arched, happy to be moving forward. His toes curled helplessly in midair, desperate for something to brace against.

"Sy-Sylar, please."

He huffed and panted, playing up his desperation in hopes that Sylar would take mercy. His ploy worked and Sylar pushed forward with another finger. It scratched and burned his insides, but the hurt was soothed by the tingle of regeneration and it was well worth the minor discomfort. Peter keened and twisted down onto Sylar eager for more.

Sylar pulled his fingers free with a twist and braced a palm on the back of Peter's thigh and pushed forward just enough to make room for himself. With the other hand he guided himself into Peter, gritting his teeth at the rough friction it caused.

"Bo...body wash...was right...there."

Don't be so prissy Petrelli. Be happy I prepped you.

Barely.

"Fuck you..."

Peter tossed his head back and laughed low in his throat as Sylar worked himself forward. The two of them groaned together worked up a steady rythm. Peter was practically curling into himself while Sylar's feet scrambled for purchase on the floor of the tub. All around them the water sloshed back and forth, neither with or against their rocking. Sylar grit his teeth and breathed heavily from his nose. Peter was nearly breathless from the pleasure and the position; the combination made his head fuzzy.

Sylar worked his hand down between them and gripped Peter's erection tightly. He worked his hand franticly, hoping to bring Peter to completion before himself. Peter threw his arms up and clawed desperatly at Sylar's hair and let out a nasal keen as he came. It clouded up and immediatly got lost in the hectic current in the tub. Sylar groaned and dug his fingers into the delicate flesh of Peter's thighs, enjoying the spams that rocked through Peter. A few more jerky thrusts and Sylar was coming undone. His mouth dropped open and his toes squelched against the tub floor.

When the two of them managed to calm their breathing the water was cold, and a great deal of it was on the floor.

So much for not splashing.

Peter laughed and brought his legs back into the tub, then curled them haphazzardly around Sylar's hunched form. The taller man dropped his head to Peter's chest and closed his eyes. He felt delicate fingers working his way through his hair and fought back a contented sigh.

"We have to get out soon or we'll get pruney."

Sylar huffed and dug for the plug with his toes. When he found the chain he tugged once and snuggled further into Peter.

"How about we go ahead and try some of that intamacy you're always going on about."

"In the tub?"

"In the tub Petrelli."

Peter thunked his head back against the rim of the tub and resigned himself to fate.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	47. Chapter 47

Hiding of All Kinds

Summary: Sylar pisses Peter off and reaps what he soes, but it's a thin line between punishment and reward.

AN: This takes place after all my December fic a day fics...some point after those...anyhoo-it is a part of the Settled World Verse and it's full of smut. Enjoy! 

3rd Person POV

Sylar felt like prey, not something he felt often. At the moment he was hiding, rather unsucessfully, in the laundry room in hopes that Peter wouldn't find him. So far he'd been found by a blond teeny-bopper and an old couple. Gabriel had been absolutely delighted when he realised the woman was carrying lights and the man had been carrying darks. But Sylar shoved Gabriel back down so he could focus on the task at hand; avoiding Peter. He was sitting with his knees to his chin in the gap made by the corner and two rows of machines. There was something sticky on the wall behind him and the free floating lent bothered his eyes, but he refused to find a new hiding place.

"Oh, excuse me young man. Young man?"

Sylar took a deep breath and put on a smile for the old woman.

"Ma'am?"

She smiled and Sylar caught a glimpse of well crafted dentures before she started speaking again.

"I'm sorry for bothering you, but are you living with that charming nurse with dark hair?"

Sylar nodded and brought his legs down and crossed them. Gabriel was constantly reminding him to look 'more open'. Above him the old woman smiled and tittered about, finishing up her laundry with her husband. After measuring out some soap flakes she spoke up over the whir of the machines.

"I think you two are just lovely together. I have a gay grandson you know. Live and let live I say. I was with three other men before settling down with Harold. That was like a hundred back then you know."

Sylar dithered and fought the urge to visualise _that_ particular image. He heard Harold shush his wife before he settled into one of the available chairs.

_He's wearing a nice cardigan. I've always wanted a brown one but I'm worried I'll look too much like Martin._

Sylar hummed to himself, relativly happy that Gabriel at least drew a line at brown cardigans. Then the old woman spoke up again. She was chattering away to the basement at large about her scandalous love life and whirl-wind romances. Sylar found it odd that she didn't seem preturbed by the fact that her audience consisted of one dosing husband, one mad man, and an army of lent bunnies.

**Tell me my monolouges never went like this.**

_...I'm not going to lie to you Sylar._

**So?**

_So, that being said, I just won't say anything._

Sylar dithered again and curled back into himself.

"Oh lordy, and the virginity scandal! My word-"

**I'm out.**

Sylar nodded to Harold as he left and dodged through the lower level hallways. He kept an eye out for Peter, who was on the hunt. Earlier in the day Sylar had spotted Peter chatting with Hesam and some other EMT's on a streetcorner. So naturally, when the traffic thinned he whistled and yelled cat calls at Peter. The look on Peter's face had made it worth it, the anger that came after it...not so much. Apperantly Peter and Hesam were chatting with representatives from the hospital about 'special' work rights.

Sylar had quickly realised his mistake, but the damage had been done. An hour earlier Peter had stormed into the apartment and made his anger known. Sylar managed to skirt around him and flea into the hallway before sustaining injury. He still wasn't quite ready to return.

**Personally, I think he's blowing this out of proportion.**

_You yelled 'Shake that fine ass' and then managed to work in something about him wearing panties. He has every right to be angry._

**I didn't know who he was with.**

_Ignorance is no excuse Sylar._

Sylar got so lost in his internal conversation that he didn't notice the figure at the foot of the stairs. He stopped when scuffed black uniform shoes came into his field of vision. He knew that scuff and by association, he knew those toes. Peter was standing in front of him at the foot of the stairs. Sylar threw an arm up and pointed somewhere behind Peter and took off in the opposite direction, running like a mad man. But before he could escape to the safety of the elevator a strong telekenetic grip wound around his chest.

He refused to scream like a little girl as he was dragged up the stairs by his ankles, but he did cover his face to hide his embarassment. To his horror he spotted the delicate and tanned ankles of the teeny-bopper who'd come down for laundry earlier. Although he was quite happy in his relationship, being embarassed in front of a pretty girl still stung as much as it had in high school.

Seven flights of stairs, and several stares later, Peter was swinging their front door open and dragging Sylar inside. He was dumped carelessly on the entry way floor and left there long enough for Peter to kick off his shoes and yank off Sylars. Then Peter seized Sylar by the back of his collar and drug him into the bedroom.

"If you aren't naked and it that bed by the time I come out of the bathroom, you and me are going to have problems."

The nurse stormed off in the direction of the bathroom and Sylar seriously considered running again.

_I wouldn't do that if I were you. He seems really angry this time Sylar._

**Hush you! Since when do I take your advice anyway?**

Fine, leave. I don't care. That just means I'll be the one having sex with Peter while you pout in the back of our head

**I do not pout**.

_You can't hide what's inside._

Before Sylar could retort he heard the bathroom door open again. Sylar quickly pulled his shirt up and off before flopping back against the matress to struggle out of his jeans. In an effort to fling the jeans off from around his ankles he gave a frantic kick in conjunction with an awkward fish like flop. His jeans hit the floor just as Peter crossed the threshold. When Sylar caught the thinly veiled aggitation on Peter's face he thanked higher powers that he hadn't had time to put on socks before running away earlier.

"You don't think do you? You just do things. Whatever crosses your mind is fair game isn't it? You need to learn to act right or face the concequenses."

Sylar gulped at Peter's imposing form and worked his way further up the bed, only to be yanked back down by Peter. His ankles were tossed over Peter's shoulders. Sylar wound his fingers into the bedspread. He had been mildly frightened at the start, but it had been a while since he'd been reamed into the matress and he missed it. He almost sighed in relief when he felt Peter's spit splash across his ass.

Above him Peter tightened the fingers of one hand into a pale thigh and used his other hand to guide himself into Sylar. His breath eased out through his clenched teeth as he pushed forward, revaling in the burn of friction. Sylar groaned and squirmed beneath him, fighting the urge to fight the burn and lash out. He grit his teeth and tried to force himself down on Peter, but the position left him with little leverage.

Stop it! You humiliated me. This isn't about you.

Peter dug his fingernails into the tender flesh of Sylar's calves and surged forward again. Grudgingly, Sylar submitted and stilled. He focused his gaze on Peter's tense, pinkened face. His eyes trailed a single drop of sweat trailing from his hairline to his chin.

"Fucking gorgeous."

Peter grunted in response and pulled slowly out of Sylar. He licks his lip and slams in again, taking pride in the jolt that shakes through Sylar's frame. He works himself into a frenzied pace, pushing so hard and fast that the bedframe clanged into that wall and dented it. The constant clang, clang, clang against the wall and the groan of the bedsprings roared out into the room and built into a cresendo. Peter threw his head back, mindful of Sylar's ankles, and panted and groaned to the ceiling.

On the bed Sylar was lost in a different world. His ears were deaf to the thunder of the bed; all he could hear was Peter's strained pants and the harsh smacking noise that sounded each time his hips slammed forward. He grit his teeth and clenched his fingers desperatly into the sheets, trying to brace himself better against the jarring slams that rocked his frame and tore him apart inside.

Peter dug his nails deeper into Sylar's legs, keeping the wounds open with the constant pressure. He turned his face to the side and licked a thin trail of blood that leaked out from under his nails. His tongue lingered there for just a moment before the lick turned to a bite. His pace began to falter as Sylar's body churned and clenched around him because of regeneration. Peter slid a hand down to Sylar's hip and held tight. He forced himself to keep pace and hold back his orgasm. He wanted Sylar to feel this.

He lets Sylar's ankles slide from his shoulders and and braces his palms against Sylar's hips, pinning him to the bed. His body bows forward and his head drops to focus down on Sylar's bellybutton. He gets caught up in the rhythmic clenches and spasms that work across Sylar's belly in tune with his own rough thrusts. His toes curled against the carpet and constant sting in his hips begged him to stop, but he wasn't ready. His eyes flickered to Sylar's face and took it all in.

He looked entirely debauced. His hair was a tangled, sweaty mess wrapped around his face. His cheeks were red and drool shone on his chin in the dim lighting. His eyes were glazed over; Peter knew that meant he was too blissed out to be coherent. His chest was heaving and his finger nails had torn the sheets beneath them.

The room was dark except for a wide beam of yellow light that came from a security lamp outside. It streaked across the bed and framed Sylar's face. Peter slammed forward and ground his hips in a circle. In reponse Sylar's mouth opened wide and let out a gurgled whine. Peter's mind flashed to an image of a hooker from some overly dramatic B-flick he once saw with Nathan. It stuck with him, made him moan and claw at Sylar's hips.

Sylar caught the stray thought and howled. He twisted his hips up and down, scrambling to get more of Peter. The constant tingle and tightening of regeneration had kept the burn constant, but the blood made the thrusts smoother. He wanted Peter to be rougher. He wanted to be torn apart and taught a lesson. He missed being put in his place by the petite nurse.

"Say it!"

Peter punctuated his demand with a jerky thrust and a telekenetic slash to Sylar's stomach.

"Tell me!"

Sylar moaned pittifully under him, lost in the tingle dancing across his stomach and the nerves sparking inside him. His head thrashed from side to side in chaotic joy.

"TELL ME!"

Peter's scream was harsh and high. It cut through Sylar's endorphin enduced haze and ilicited a nasal keen. Sylar's blissed out brain struggled to piece together what Peter wanted. He was willing to say anything, but he wanted to say something right. He unclenched his fingers from the bedspread and worked them around his, thus negelected, dick. The spike of pleasure cleared away the fog of pain and let Sylar concentrate.

Above him Peter was keeping up a constant mantra of 'say it', 'say it', over and over until the words lost their heat and stumbled out paniced instead. Sylar heard the nasal whine that accompanied the mantra and knew Peter was fighting tears. It clicked.

"I belong to you. I'm-", Sylar's whole body jerked and tensed as he came. The semen painted broken white ribbons across his stomach and chest. Peter's jaw ticked as he fought off thoughts about licking it up. He pulled free and came, groaning through clenched teeth. Sylar watched with hooded eyes as Peter's semen mixed with his own across his stomach.

"Sylar..."

"I'm yours babe. All of me."

Peter let out a sob of relief and collapsed onto the bed partially on top of Sylar. There was a moment of peace, the only sound being their panting breaths. Then Peter gave a swift punch to the center of Sylar's chest.

"Asshole, those guys think I'm a freak now."

Sylar cringed at the punch but didn't retaliate.

"What'd you tell them about me?"

"That you were crazy."

Peter's fingers skimmed across Sylar's stomach, unmindful of the cooling semen there, and curled his fingers around a newly healed hip.

"No really, what'd you say?"

"That you were crazy."

A/N: In case some of you are confused: Peter wasn't quite that angry about the stunt, it was just the straw that broke the camels back. He was pissed in general and took it out on Sylar in some rough sexin. Then he got upset near the end because he feels like sometimes Sylar only treats him like property. Peter just wanted to know that Sylar felt like Peter owned him too.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	48. Chapter 48

Great Strides

Summary: Hesam demands satisfaction! Ha no really, he wants Peter to explain himself. 

3rd Person POV

In the events following Claire's spur of the moment Ferris wheel jump, the world had taken on a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. Peter felt that it was one of the better possible outcomes and tried to take it in stride. Gabriel fretted about the possibilities and worked himself into hives so he tried to avoid thinking about it if at all possible. Sylar on the other hand, was quite happy with the world's turn of events because it gave him a little wiggle room to show off. But every so often he dwelled on what if's, like 'what if they connect those murders to me and send me away?' But for the most part the freedom outweighed the problems.

It had been a full year and Peter knew that some day it would come up. He could feel it deep in his bones, and the feeling usually came in equal parts joy and nausea. That feeling welled up to the bursting point when he caught Hesam's determined look.

"Peter, we need to talk."

Peter's step faltered and his eyes flicked about looking for potential exit routs. Standing resolutely in front of the only main exit was Hesam, arms crossed and stern looking. Peter heard vauge jumbled thoughts about finally getting answers and he knew he was stuck. He slumped his shoulders forward and dropped his chin to his chest. He pouted, just a little, before standing up straight again and looking his friend in the eye. He took a deep breath and crossed his own arms.

"I know what you want Hesam and the answer is yes. I am...special. So is Gabriel. Is there anything in particular you'd like to ask me or tell me?"

Peter fought the urge to peek into Hesam's mind and gave his friend the privacy of his own mind. They stood facing eachother for several tense minutes; the hustle and bustle of the hospital rang in their ears and mocked the silence.

"Can we talk in private? Later I mean, about...about as much as you're willing to tell me. I mean, all those times when you ran off or someone miraculously got better...that was you right? That was an ability of yours?"

Peter nodded curtly and tucked his bangs behind his ear.

"Yeah, you can come home with me today after work. If that's okay?"

Hesam nodded and smiled, happy that things between them were smoothing out.

"Oh uh...Gabriel is, well he has DID okay. So you may get Sylar. But either way I'm not warning them because that could lead to problems."

The nurse caught an alarmed thought that not warning Gabriel could cause even bigger problems. He considered it but decided a call would only cause stress.

_Best just to wing it I think_.

"I think we're better off taking our chances Hesam...just don't track mud in the house and you should be fine."

Before they could discuss more a call came in and the two of them had to be on their way. Peter was thankful for the small miracle and wondered vaugely if someone with an ability was smiling down on him. They drove and ran and dove elbow deep in blood and mucus for the next couple of hours. They were in sync again, no more wary glances or uneasy jitters. Peter took a moment in all of it to appreciate the rhythm. But all too soon it was over and Hesam was ready to follow Peter home.

The walk to Peter's apartment was quiet. Peter had his nose down, looking resolutely at the sidewalk. Beside him, Hesam was fidgeting in his walk, nervous that something bad might happen. All too soon Peter's apartment building loomed over them and Hesam gulped, knowing there was no turning back at this point. They headed up the stairs together, Peter finally deciding to break the silence.

"When we get to the door just...let me peek in first and make sure he's not naked or something alright."

"That happen often?"

"Well no...well, yes actually. Actually, I'm not really sure. What's your definition of 'often'?"

"If you have to ask, it's often."

Peter nodded and smiled, happy that the situation was taking a lighter turn. With a good natured huff Peter unlocked his front door and took a small step inside.

"Sylar? Gabriel? You home?"

Peter's shoulders sagged in relief when Gabriel shuffled around the corner, Noah in tow, holding a large wooden spoon.

"Long day Peter?"

He nodded and eased the door open wider, slowly revealing Hesam behind him.

"Peter...is something wrong?"

Gabriel's grip tightened on the wooden spoon and his face dropped into something stricken. His eyes flicked franticly back and forth from Peter and Hesam, worried that something horrible had happened at the hospital. Sensing a total meltdown, Peter rushed forward and stole a kiss from Gabriel's slack lips.

"No, nothing like that Brei. Hesam just wanted to get to know us."

"He knows us, we've met. You wor-"

**About us Gabriel. You know, what we are.**

Peter silently thanked Sylar for his help then turned back to Hesam and urged him to come inside. Hesam stood hesitantly in front of the shut door and fiddled with his coat.

"Ahem...so...ah...smells nice in here. Sugary...you making something."

Gabriel's eyes widened and Peter caught a brief mental swear before Gabriel dashed back into the kitchen. Peter heard some frantic mumbling and the sound of a wooden spoon digging through something. He rounded the corner into the kitchen to see Gabriel laboring over a pot of bright blue taffy.

"He's making taffy. What flavor Brei?"

Gabriel used his knuckle to press his glasses further up his nose.

"Saltwater blueberry."

The three of them stood awkwardly in the kitchen for a few minutes; the silence only broken by the sound of Gabriel stirring.

"So...Gabriel...is your ability the power to pull sticks out of asses because for a while Peter-"

Gabriel sputtered and blushed as Peter whacked Hesam in the back of the head.

**I like this man.**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	49. Chapter 49

What do You Wish For?

Summary: Peter sees a different side of Sylar this time around, but the sex is good all the same. (Part of **Settled World Verse**)

3rd Person POV

The muscles of Peter's stomach twitch and spasm as Sylar's nails scrape lightly across the skin there. His head lolls back against the pillow and his mouth drops open in quiet 'oh's'. His legs are spread but relaxed against the bed, resting lightly inside Sylar's knees. His palms are flat against his own nipples. His original intent had been to play with himself, rile Sylar up and tease him, but the gentle ministrations had him lethargic. It just didn't seem worth the effort.

Sylar drug his nails down, just hard enough to leave a jittery tingle over Peter's skin, before he pushed the pads of his fingers up again, just as gently. He fought to keep a smirk off of his face. This was important to him. The thoughts curling in the back of his head were hushed in an attempt to keep them secret.

**I'm trying Peter. Intimacy isn't so bad, not when you look like that. I didn't even know you _could_look like that.**

The teasing press and glide of his fingers bring about a lazy erection in Peter. Sylar smiles down at it and thinks idly about the similarities in the pink there to the pink of Peter's lips. He got a string of lazy syllables in return. Peter was caught between the urge to fall asleep and the spikes of pleasure dancing down to his groin. Sylar had been at it for a half hour, teasing his stomach and massaging the skin of his inner thighs. He'd been caught off-guard but pleased nonetheless. It wasn't often he got to see this side of Sylar. So he kept his questions at bay and resigned himself to Sylar's soft and curious hands.

Finally, the deft fingers of Sylar's left hand skimmed to Peter's erection. The touches were no more satisfying, keeping that light, barely there pressure. The nurse sighed happily and lazily spread his legs, insisting quietly that Sylar widen his stance. He almost giggled when his silent plea was granted. Above him Sylar let his knees slid farther apart on the bedspread, but kept his teasing touches at the same pace.

Weird...almost...tickles_._

"Is that good or bad."

Mmmm...ask me later.

Sylar nodded once and brought his unoccupied hand to his own erection. He'd been worked up for a while, strangely aroused by Peter's almost sleepy coos and sighs of pleasure. Sex between the two of them was usually hard and dirty, no room for pretty noises and lethargic ministrations. He licked his bottom lip and gripped himself loosely, wanting desperately to tug and yank, but not willing to risk killing the moment. His brow furrowed at the inner predicament.

"Mmm, s'matter Sylar?"

**Is this going to lead to sex?**

"I had thought so, why?"

**Just don't wanna ruin the moment.**

"There are very few occasions where sex can actually ruin a moment Sylar."

Sylar made a 'tch' noise and thumbed the tip of Peter's erection, taking note that nothing was beading there yet.

"Is that really weird for me?"

"You're a leaky faucet Petrelli. It's a little weird...so we can have sex?"

"Unless you iIIIintend...to give me a case of blue balls, yeah."

Sylar smirked at the stung out word. He'd dug his nail in, just so, at his slit. He cast a long appraising look over Peter's body, taking in the sight of the powdery pink hue his skin was taking, the mussed hair, and the small piercing sparkling in his bellybutton. When Peter rocked his hips up the spell was broken and Sylar edged backwards until he was able to bend over, mouth level with Peter's erection. He pressed a chaste kiss to the tip, his lips lingering lovingly for a few seconds, before righting himself again.

"Lie on your side."

Peter smiled and lazily turned on his side, teasingly wriggling his butt back towards Sylar. He crooked his arms and pillowed them under his face.

Do with me as you wish.

Sylar smiled softly and crouched down to press a kiss to the swell of Peter's ass. He lingered there for a moment, his lips and nose pressed firmly to Peter's ass, content to just feel the smooth skin. With a deep calming breath Sylar moved back and gripped firmly in the same place his face just vacated. He tugged the soft globe of flesh back and eyed lovingly at the hidden pink pucker he just revealed.

**What if I want to do something nasty?**

We always do nasty things Sylar.

**Yeah but—**

S'ok Sylar, I like everything you do to me.

**Pull your leg up.**

With a slow thumb stroke Sylar leans down again and drags his tongue across the seam of Peter's ass. He hears a quiet whimper and goes again, pressing hard and keeping up the broad swipes. After a few more long passes he tenses his tongue and it into Peter, just barely breaching the tight ring of muscle. He wrung shaky moans and shuddering gasps from his lover, all light and airy.

"S...Sylar...mmm..."

Peter clutched harder at his own thigh as shivers rocked through his body. His muscles tensed and relaxed in response to the burn of Sylar's stubble, the heat of his breath, and the warm slickness of his tongue. The soft pink from before burned to a deeper color and spread from his cheeks and nose to his neck. A blush was also working it's way across Peter's groin and up to his navel. A few more wet slurps and sloppy bites, and Peter's 'leaky faucet' started up.

Sylar sat up and wiped the spit away from his face with the back of his hand. He was pleased to see that Peter kept his position and was drooling and babbling happily into the pillow. He reached out and passed the palm of his hand softly over Peter's stomach, ignoring his now leaking erection. He watched the muscles jump under his touch and smiled.

**Want something more?**

Mmmm.

**Yes or no?**

Yeeessssss.

Sylar bent down and kissed Peter's shoulder, holding back the urge to leave a parting bite. Sylar took a deep breath and settled down behind Peter, also on his side, and summoned the lube. He pressed his nose into the back of Peter's neck and slicked his fingers. In front of him Peter lets out a soft coo of pleasure as a single finger eases in and works the muscle. The seconds tick by with only the sound of Peter's soft 'ohs' and the slurp of Sylar's fingers easing in and out.

"M'ready. Please."

Peter's body shifted, pulling forward to ease the fingers out. Sylar slowly worked his way into Peter's pliable body then wiped his hand on the sheets behind him. Seconds later he was curled lovingly around Peter's body. His hips pushed forward and back in gentle rocking motions. They shifted together, pressed tight together and intertwined from head to toe.

Sylar pressed his lips to the back of Peter's neck, pressing so hard his teeth grate against the inside of his skin, causing little tears. The pin-pricks of blood smear against Peter's neck, unnoticed.

"Almost baby, almost."

Sylar groans against Peter's neck in response and disentangles his top leg so he can drape it heavily over Peter's hip. Next he slides a hand down to cup and trap Peter's erection against his stomach. Sylar presses firmly down and slides his hand up and down, gathering precum along the way. He rested his hips flat across the swell of Peter's ass and ground his hips as well as he could, receiving gasps and mewls in return. A spasm of pleasure rocks through Peter's body and the shudder sets Sylar back in motion. There was a deep slow burn building each of them, something amazing and blissful; but something just not good enough.

They gasped and moaned together, teetering on the brink of orgasm.

Need...need something.

**I know...me...me too**.

Peter choked back a sob of desperation. He needed something, wanted it so much, so that he could enjoy Sylar's sudden gift properly. Sylar on the other hand was frustrated. He wanted to master this, but he was missing something.

_Little concessions Sylar, little steps_.

Sylar growled at Gabriel's words, angry for the intervention. But the growl soon morphs into a croon as Gabriel forces a telekinetic probe deep inside him.

"B...Brei, mmm, me too?"

Peter smiles and gasps breathlessly as Gabriel's invisible touch winds and twists around his erection, adding to the friction Sylar was already giving him. Peter brings an arm down on top of Sylar's and holds desperately, shuddering and mewling without abandon. The two of them jerked against each other franticly, lost in the feel of Gabriel's deft touch. With one final squeeze and prod from Gabriel the two of them were shuddering and clinging to eachother in throws of orgasm. It spread over them like a warm blanket, numbing Peter's toes and buzzing in Sylar's ears.

Sylar tried to slide away as the post-coital sleepiness tugged on his consciousness, but Peter held on and brought Sylar's hand to his lips. His kiss was soft and lingering. Gabriel supplied that his lips were gooey with saliva.

"Stay, both of you. S'nice."

_**Whatever you wish Peter.**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


	50. Chapter 50

Sometimes Babies just Cry

Summary: Peter takes a step forward to building his family. 

3rd Person POV

Peter was insatiable. Gabriel had come home from work to find Peter lounging across the couch in skimpy womens' clothes—as a woman. As soon as Gabriel shut the door and slid off his bag Peter was slinking towards him with a coy smile on his face. Gabriel sputtered as Peter's smaller, more effeminate hands tugged his button-up and sweater-vest from his khaki's.

"Hello Brei."

"Hello...Peyton."

Peter laughed once, a sharp bell like ting, then tugged on Gabriel's belt loops.

"C'mon, let's go have some fun."

Gabriel nodded and followed Peter, Peyton, into the bedroom. He watched in awe as Peter's petite body bounced down on the mattress and flipped up the hem of her skirt. Peter wriggled back across the sheets, her finger hooked in Gabriel's pants, pulling him along. The watchmaker followed dumbly, shocked that Peter was playing this type of game with _him_.

"Pet—Peyton...W-what do you want to do?"

Peter smiled at him from under her lashes.

"I want you to _do_ me, silly."

Gabriel gulped and with shaky hands, started to remove his clothes. He licked his lips and carefully placed his glasses on the end table closest to him.

"A-are you sure...this way I mean?"

Peter nodded resolutely and reached out to help Gabriel pull his clothes off. Peter took great care to skim her fingers across as much skin as possible. He nipped and sucked at all the skin available and forced her thoughts to simmer down to a hush. Peter had a plan, and it wouldn't due to have Gabriel stumble on it half way through, or God forbid, Sylar. He wanted a baby. He really did, more than anything else he wanted a proper family with his husband. He knew better than to talk with Sylar about it because he would insist on carrying it. And Peter knew that talking it over with Gabriel would raise his hopes and there was only a small chance that this would work, he didn't want to risk the tears that would be sure to come. But as a nurse, as a paramedic, and as a Petrelli, Peter felt that if things went wrong, he'd be able to handle it.

So he hushed his thoughts and sighed as Gabriel ran his lips and tongue over his neck. He sighed and cooed at all the right times, assuring Gabriel that he was, in fact, doing good. Peter couldn't stop the smile that came when Gabriel's nervous fingers hooked onto the hem of his plain white cotton panties. He clasped his hands over Gabriel's and helped him ease them down, quirking his hips from side to side to make it easier.

"S'good Brei. Keep going."

Gabriel nodded once resolutely and skimmed his fingers up Peter's thighs and just felt. He was still thrown by the lack of penis and wasn't quite sure what to do with himself, or her. He eased the skirt up over Peter's stomach and studied the new anatomy presented to him.

_It's all...wet, more than usual. It looks kind of...scary..._

Peter laughed out right, her whole body spasming with it. He'd thought the same thing the first time he saw one.

"The trick is not to look at it. Either that or just don't think too much about it."

Peter watched with rapt attention as Gabriel's fingers strayed remarkably close to her inner folds. Gabriel licked his lips and hesitated at the last second, wary of the mess it was sure to bring.

"You don't have to touch me that way. It's okay."

Gabriel's lips pulled into a thin line, his expression determined. Peter watched in absolute shock as Gabriel drug his finger down his center and pull away before licking the juice from his fingers. Gabriel's whole face screwed up in disgust, but he kept his finger in his mouth and sucked away the last traces of Peter.

"Brei?"

_Don't, don't want to think about it. I'm just doing...don't ask. Plllleeeeassssse don't ask._

In response Peter spread her legs wider and canted her hips up, encouraging Gabriel to precede. He did so with caution, easing forward slowly. A gasp of pleasure escaped his lips as he sunk in, unused to the feeling of sex with a woman. Peter sighed and tightened her thighs around Gabriel's hips. The two of them rocked together slowly, Peter's arms wound around Gabriel's back, and Gabriel's arms pressed tight to Peter's sides.

They gasped, and clenched, and panted together, enjoying the slow pace. Peter tucked her face into the crook of Gabriel's neck and kissed. He kept a birage of kisses, licks, and nips, doing his best to keep Gabriel incoherent.

Want this so bad. You and me baby, you and me, and Sylar. Us baby...baby...

"Mmmmm."

Gabriel shivered and bucked. He worked one hand down and gripped awkwardly at Peter's hip. His fingers itched to do more, to do what Sylar would do. But he couldn't get over how gross it seemed. He pulled back and braced his palms on Peter's hips, catching on the fabric of her rumpled skirt. His gaze flicked back and forth between her pinkened face and the swollen nub hidden at the apex of her hips. He whined in the back of his throat, wishing he was brave enough for this. He bit his lip and bucked harder, desperate to prove he could be in charge.

Beneath him Peter babbled, happy with the sudden display of dominance. He clutched tightly at Gabriel's forearms and planted her feet flat on the mattress to gain more leverage. Peter matched Gabriel's pace and wriggled her hips up and around. A few frantic thrusts later and Gabriel was tensing as he came. His mouth dropped open as a flush spread across his face.

He dropped down onto Peter and smiled briefly into her new breast. Small hands cupped the back of his head and his smile dropped. His post orgasmic flush burned brighter in embarrassment. Gabriel let out a single pitiful wail and tried to struggle away from Peter.

"You didn't...I couldn't...Ahh, I'm so...so...uhhhh..."

Gabriel's babbling fed into a series of sobs that Peter tried to shush away.

"It's okay, it's okay. It's harder for women and how often—"

Peter stopped his placating when Gabriel's sobs suddenly stopped. He noticed the hooded eyes and the sinister quirk to his lip.

"So Peyton, we meet again."

Peter sighed and thunked his head back against the pillow, still fighting off the jitters dancing across his body.

"Indeed. Now tell your better half it was good."

Sylar cocked his head to the side and pulled himself free with and wet squelch. Peter eyed him curiously, noting the distinct lack of mental hum coming from his direction. Just as his eyes slid shut a vicious bite was delivered on her clit. Peter myowked and clamped her thighs around Sylar's head. Her fingers curled tightly around the bedsheets and her ankles hooked together, cradling Sylar's head in her groin.

Sylar set to his task with vigor, eager to show he could pick up the slack where Gabriel left it. He licked, suck, and bit at everything he could get his lips around. Above him Peter's shrieks drove him on. He clamped his hands on Peter's thighs and thrust his tongue out, catching a glob of Gabriel's semen in the process. Peter bucked up once more and came. Shudders wracked her frame as Sylar eased her legs apart and back to the bed. He wiped his spit slicked face on the back of his hand and sat back on his haunches to watch Peter writhe in the aftershocks.

Peter felt his skin buzz and tingle and knew instinctively it wasn't from orgasm. He tightened his grip on the sheets and took deep, slow breaths to fight of the jitters. He knew that if he didn't change outwardly Sylar would suspect, if he didn't already. So he focused. He visualized his medical text books and the pictures he had seen in lectures. He focused on the memory of Gabriel, holding that small baby girl. He thought about his nephews and Claire. And he thought about what he'd name their baby. When his outward features shifted back he felt the new weight of a uterus nestled in his abdomen.

"Thank you, both of you."

Sylar cocked his head to the side and slunk into the bed next to Peter. He plucked at the skirt and huffed.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Later, when it was dark and New York seemed to lull into sleep, Peter snuck into the bathroom and passed a hand over his stomach. He yawned once and furrowed his brow. Then cried. He collapsed to his knees and did nothing to stem the tears pouring down his face and splashing onto his lap. Peter grit his teeth and clenched his fists, letting the sorrow wash over him in waves. Sometime after quiet shivers and quakes turned into choked sobs, Sylar stood behind him, naked and quiet. He said nothing, knowing it was best to just give Peter the peace he wanted. Even his own abilities faltered from time to time. And as Sylar was the best of them, he knew Peter stood no chance. But he knew from experience that some lessons were better learned alone.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own this slash fiction. I just uploaded this here because I prefer reading stories using my Samsung Galaxy Note 2 phablet. I will be taking this down once I'm done reading all drabbles. You can find the source of this fiction in - neaislove . livejournal / 27458 . html . Look for the _Settled World Verse_ series.


End file.
